Breaking Point
by Shadow Dancer666
Summary: What happens if Matt and Mello found a way to fake their deaths and escape the manipulation of both Kira and Near? Will they ever be able to live happily? WARNING: brutality, abuse, rape, blood, extreme psychological breakdowns, and drugs.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note****: This is a plot that Kiogy came up with, but I offered to write it out for him. The theme is raw and brutal, so if you have a weak stomach or you can't read strong stuff, please turn back. There is going to be a lot of abuse both psychological and physical and don't expect much if any fluff. Also note that there will be smut written. This story will be following manga canon and the only difference is that Matt and Mello live. Thanks for letting me write this, Kiogy! For anyone who has not turned back by now, please enjoy the read. I really would appreciate some reviews so that I can gauge how the next chapter should go.**

**Disclaimer****: _I do not own Death Note or any of its characters. All I own is the plot of this story._ **

It was crazy, ludicrous, impossible. Who were we to think that we could challenge a god directly and escape with our lives, that we could outsmart the almighty Kira? We were nothing more than the rejects from the distinguished Wammy House, two reckless mavericks. We were nothing, yet we were going to do it anyway.

I'd be lying if I said that we weren't scared. For fuck's sake our plan was so outlandish, so improbable! There were far too many things that could go wrong. To be honest, there was more that could go wrong than there was that could go right! However, even with all that knowledge, we were still going forward with it. Mello did it because he had something to prove and nothing to lose, and I did it because I didn't have a choice. Mello had wanted to do this by himself, but the both of us knew that he couldn't do it without me. No, it wasn't because I was an irreplaceable partner or anything stupid like that. It was because no one else was idiotic enough to partake of a plan with a 98% chance of failure and no reward if the plan was a success.

Why would I do it then? It would've been super easy to just walk away and never look back. Hell, Mello would've probably handed me the damn keys to his in-case-of-an-emergency bike and said nothing if I left. The truth was, that doing something like that would've been easy for a normal sane person, and I was neither of those. I was nothing more than Mello's much loved dog.

By "loved" I mean that I was worth just enough to lick those brand name alligator-skin boots clean. Not many made it up that far on his "to not beat shitless" list, and only L had ever gotten any higher than that. Yeah, it felt awesome to have him at least think before he stepped all over me.

With those warm fuzzy feelings pushing me on, I sat back in the beat up red car that would be my partner in crime tonight, and sucked heavily on my cigarette. It was my 55th cig of the day, but that didn't bother me much. After all, the cancer couldn't kill me before this shitty plan did. If, by some miracle, I didn't die today I'm sure that I'd get killed doing something else reckless for Mello (not that I wanted to, mind you, I wanted a nice quiet life). Two and a fucking half packs of cigarettes was actually pretty good considering how stressed I was.

Tossing the filter to the cooling asphalt I looked around at my filthy surroundings. It was pathetic, really, if I would just be honest with my damn self. I had lived 20 short years and with my genius mind _this _was the best that I could do? I was a top class hacker and a fucking god of anything electronical and I didn't even have my own bed! I slept on a couch or motherfucking floor and ate nothing but ten cent noodles!

My leather clad fingers clenched the steering wheel tight enough to make the material creak. Each harsh breath from my abused lungs echoed loudly in my ears making my heart beat faster and faster. Painfully ripping the goggles off my head, my left hand then covered my eyes in an effort to keep the tears from falling. I didn't want to die, I was so fucking scared! I was supposed to be just beginning my life and here I was rushing myself to a painful and sudden end. Why? Why?!

Behind my darkened eyelids I could see a memory reeling across like an old film. A surreal glow encased the image and my body shuddered hard as I expelled a long shaky breath. I saw that shimmering blond hair being tenderly caressed by the gentle summer breeze. The sun was bright enough to hurt my sensitive eyes, but back then I couldn't tear my watering eyes away from the beautiful scene. Tears of happiness streaked down my cheeks, mingling with the tears of fear and grief. There he was, my angel, my reason for living, my deadly addiction. The cancer undoubtedly blooming in my lungs and the drugs running through my veins were nothing compared to the side effects of worshipping Mello, my sweet Mello.

Bony fingers clenched the hair from the back of my head painfully and yanked my head back, effectively jerking me out of my reverie. That beautiful flash of golden hair made my heart flutter before the piercing glare of turquoise eyes made the poor organ drop to my stomach. The fist in my hair tightened making me gasp out in pain.

"Were you crying?" he hissed, tugging my hair to make a point.

"N-no," I stuttered, feeling helpless under that gaze.

Yanking my hair painfully, he forced me to get out of the car through the window before slamming me up against the worn vehicle.

"Don't you dare!" he screeched giving me a hard shake. "Don't you fucking dare!"

There all kinds of emotions bubbling over in his eyes and it was absolutely breath taking. The Mello of these past few months, even years, had always shut himself completely up. He refused to give anyone the pleasure of reading him of seeing him behave even remotely human. However, on the eve of our destruction, even he could not hide his humanity, his weakness. He was just as scared as I was no matter how much he desperately wanted to hide it.

"Dare what?" I mumbled, hoping that he wouldn't turn his fear into aggressiveness. I really didn't want the last moments of my life to be spent getting the shit kicked out of me.

"Don't show me that you're scared," he hissed before plunging his sweet and hot tongue into my mouth.

There was nothing tender as he brutally raped my mouth and like the bitch I was, all I could do was moan and open wider. It was likely that I was going to have a bald spot where he was tugging all of my dark hair out, but that pain couldn't override the mind-numbing feeling of him against me, his mouth tearing into mine.

Even as I tasted blood, my hands dared to gently touch his jutting hips. Shuddering helplessly at his ministrations, I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and prayed that this wasn't a dream. The sharp burn at the back of my head was enough to prove that this was anything but that.

"Don't. Fucking. Show. Me."

His gasps and the sound of our lips mashing together broke apart his words and my overwhelmed mind could barely understand what he was trying to say.

"You're not scared!" he shouted desperately as he shoved me into the car again, this time making me bite my tongue from the impact. "I am not scared!"

The sound of warm leather smacking flesh echoed in the alley as he slapped me. Grabbing my shoulders, he spun me around and bent me over the car door. The partially jutted out window dug painfully into my torso, reminding me of how human I was, how alive I still was, even as he forced my jeans down. That warm leather clenched my hips painfully as he forced himself into my body. My scream echoed mockingly against the cold walls and I dug my fingers into the cheap plastic shit covering the inside of the door.

"I'm n-not scared!" I gasped as he continued to thrust inside of me. "Oh gods, Mello! Not scared!"

I could hear his sobbing from behind me, but a firm grip on the back of my neck made sure that I couldn't turn to see him or comfort him. We were both past the threshold of sanity and no amount of comfort could help now. My stiff cock was mercilessly rubbed up against the rusty metal of the door with each and every thrust and I begged for more. All of it, the pain, the fear, the pleasure, was merged into a blur of feeling. It was proof that we were both alive and we were doing our fucking best to soak it all in.

Like the pathetic creature I was, I cried as an orgasm racked my body. Hot fluids coated inside of me before Mello pulled away with a squelching sound. Our sobbing and gasping rang in my ears loudly as I collapsed to my knees. My own cum slid soundlessly down the car door and over my hand as I used the vehicle as a support to keep from completely falling over.

"Mail."

The word was whispered so softly, so uncertainly, as if my god couldn't utter it without permission. With my bruised and tear streaked face, I turned to look at the only perfect being on this planet. He was standing on shaky legs and his wide eyes stared down at me, the terror all too evident. His trembling lip still carried a smear of my blood.

"We need to get going," I choked. "We need to…to finish this." Clenching my fist painfully tight, I forced a wretched smile on to my face. "See you at the rendezvous."

Looking down, Mello nodded. There was no more time to doubt and to sit around in agony. It was show time for the both of us. Our final performance no matter what happened. Near would win and Kira would be brought down. Funny how my fear seemed to fade into nothing as I forced myself to stand and pulled up my pants. The semen slid down my legs uncomfortably but I didn't do anything about it. Instead, I stepped closer to Mello and planted a soft kiss against his lips.

"Good luck," he breathed against my broken lips, and then we parted like nothing more than a whisper of darkness.

~_~_~_~_~_

My tires screeched in protest as I forced my way into another sharp turn. The bodyguards weren't too far behind me, but I still had to carry out the plan. Briefly, the thought of just ignoring my only escape route flitted across my mind, but I pushed that to the side. I still had the desire to live, and just because I was cutting it a little close didn't mean that I would just give up.

Inhaling some more smoke from a new cigarette, I jerked the car into an alley that had been prepared beforehand. Slamming on the breaks, I stumbled out of the car before it even fully finished moving. A guy leaning against the alley wall raised an eyebrow but I pointed at the car with a shaky hand.

"Don't let them catch you," I gasped hurriedly.

"Sheesh, I am a pro," he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair. "Just wish you didn't make me wear these ugly clothes."

Pulling off my goggles, I handed them to him to complete his disguise. The striped shirt didn't seem to settle well on his body and he blew at the furred vest in annoyance.

"Get going!" I commanded as the sounds of screeching tires drew nearer.

I didn't have to repeat myself as my body double hopped into the junker and took off in a blur of back lights. Ducking behind the dumpster, I held my breath as the sound of cars rushed by. One of the black cars scraped against the dumpster, knocking the heavy thing into me. Clamping my hands over my mouth, I stifled the scream of pain from broken ribs and maybe a fractured arm, and I crouched down to avoid being seen. This was the last motherfucking time I hide behind a two ton dumpster.

Even after the sound of cars passing by ended, I was still too scared to move. There could still be others, I reasoned. The cold air nipped mercilessly at my face and even penetrated my clothes. After what could have only been hours, I peeked around the trash that I was hiding behind. There was nothing but the normal traffic rushing by. Still nervous, I continued to wait as I watched for any sign of people ready to ambush me. It's not like this wasn't the first time something like that had happened to me.

It took nearly another hour of crouching in the cold, watching the alley and streets, before I stiffly stood up and swapped into the spare clothes that I had prepared. It was difficult to strip out of my comfortably fit clothing in the cold, especially with the broken ribs, but I forced all thoughts of discomfort out of my mind. Instead, my thoughts were all on Mello. His part of the plan was nearing its end, if not already over. The bright orange beanie covered my green tinted hair and the baggy hoodie thankfully covered my gangster baggy pants. The damn things hung nearly completely off my ass and I just couldn't figure out how people did this all the time. The biting cold didn't make the experience any more enjoyable. My clothes were quickly shoved into a trash bag and stuffed in the middle of the dumpster's contents.

With a well practiced slouch and macho gait, I slunked out of the alley and blended in with the steady stream of pedestrians. Keeping my breathing at a steady pace was probably the hardest part of the whole thing for me. A mixture of the physical pain and the paranoia began squeezing my chest painfully, only adding to the difficulty. Still, I pushed on and played my part. Hit on a few hot girls, keep my hands shoved deep into my hoodie's pockets, and make sure that no one got a good look at my face.

On the way to the rendezvous, my eyes caught sight of the news from a television within an old pawn shop. Getting close enough to the window of the store to fog up the glass, I watched in superficial calmness as the images of my body double getting murdered in cold blood flashed over and over. The mindless anchors were commenting on how anyone who opposed Kira deserved that kind of slaughter.

"There's still no news on the young man's identity," the anchorwoman said stoically, "and there's still no reports on Takada's whereabouts. Speculation of a ransom has been going around, but that is unlikely considering that Lord Kira would probably smite down anyone who dared touch his messenger."

It made me sick, all of it. The people on this planet were nothing more than animals, fucking animals. Turning on my heel, I tried to push back the images of the man I hired with hands in the air trying to reason with the body guards. It was lucky that the camera's didn't pick up his voice since I was sure that he was trying to convince them that he wasn't the same guy who helped in the kidnapping. After all, he didn't know anything about our plan. I just hired him to get some people off my tail. He wasn't supposed to die, but inside I knew that he wasn't going to make it. It was him or me, and I chose to send him to the cruel death that was waiting for me. I looked down at my hands, struck by the fact that they weren't literally bloodstained. Murderer, that was all I was. A sick and gifted murderer. But it was all for him.

Getting to the cramped and dirty motel room, I looked around at the empty space and felt my heart drop. He wasn't here yet. Forcing myself to move, I walked over to the television and turned it to the news. I needed to watch even if it made me sick, if just to see if Mello's plan went all the way through.

The meaningless chatter echoed through the room as I sat against the wall nearest the door like the dog I was. I wanted to be as close as possible when he came through this door. Wincing, I slid the needle into my pale arm and released the drugs. A sense of calmness tugged at the edges of my mind as I rested my head against the stained wall, but it wasn't enough for me. Throwing the needle across the room, I glanced at the drawer that I knew had more morphine in it. Even though the temptation was there, I refused to get it. I needed to be aware of my surroundings until Mello got here, and after that we were both going to get shit-faced.

Seeing yourself get murdered over and over again while people cheered it really had a funny way of messing with your mind, especially when one wasn't completely sane. I wanted to cry, but a dark chuckle came out instead. My blue eyes remained unblinkingly at the images flashing across the screen, waiting and waiting.

"Breaking news!"

There it was, the final part of our act. Hazy images of a building completely encased in an inferno. The cross at the top seemed to avoid the flames the longest, as if praying to its god to be spared. Soon, it too was swallowed. The reporter on scene was talking rapidly as the firemen worked to put out the blazing fire. In the back of my mind, I wondered if Near would be able to see Mello's signature on this as he too was undoubtedly watching for news on Takada. Would he realize that he couldn't have gotten his hands on the real killer notebook without this recklessness? As he stared Kira down and brought forth the proof of condemnation, would he even have the decency to thank Mello?

The flames had been fought down to nothing more than struggling embers and the firemen had rushed into the building. It was obvious that no one would have survived that, yet they ran in to find the bodies. Biting my scabbed lip until a fresh trickle of blood seeped down my chin, I waited. Soon a fireman came up to make his little comments.

"Ah, well, we found two bodies in the building. Ms. Takada was obviously one of them and the corpse of the other person was too damaged to get any identification off of. It's presumably the kidnapper…"

Two corpses, this was looking good. Still, Mello might have been too close to the origin of the fire and been blown to pieces. Even more likely was that they just hadn't found his body yet. Still, I clung to my stubborn hope. I wanted him alive to be with me, just like we planned. Unfortunately, it was even more unlikely than my surviving.

Mello's part had consisted of the more dangerous job. He had to kidnap Takada and take her to the shipping company. After stripping her of all her clothing to "ensure" that she didn't have any of the killing paper, he was going to put her clothes on another truck and drive the bitch to the church. Once the vehicle stopped, she was going to write his name, Mihael Keehl, on the paper and kill him with a heart attack. After Kira was contacted by her, he was going to make her set the entire area on fire to kill herself as well as to get rid of any evidence.

The tricky part in all of this was the escaping death part. All of it rested heavily on an aspect that had never been addressed or tested. As a matter of fact, it had slipped past my lips in a jest, but Mello had taken it literally and had put it to the ultimate test.

"_Why don't you just change your fucking name?!"_

He had his name legally changed to Klavdija, an homage to his past and to his present. Klavdija, literally "lame" in Slovene, his native country. He was broken and could never be repaired so that name did him justice. It wasn't pretty like Mihael, nor did it roll off the tongue in such a delightful manner. It was harsh, a constant reminder of who he had become after the years spent avenging L.

Still, that in itself didn't guarantee that he would live, and in the case that he did live, he needed to make it appear that he had died. Only then would he be freed from the chains of vengeance and superiority. Mello would have given Near the final piece of the puzzle, and no matter what, Near would never be able to repay him. It was a final victory as much as a safety precaution. If everyone believed that we were dead, then there would be no need to hunt us down. We could live together, quietly and happily for the rest of our lives.

Watching the reports about the fire and the "sad" news of Takada's death, I shifted uncomfortably on the floor. Even if changing his name had saved him from the killer notebook, he had to fake his death in front of her until Kira sent her to burn everything up. At that point he had to somehow manage to get out of there without her noticing and replace himself with his own body double. Of course, his body double was some random blond bum that wouldn't be missed even after we killed him. A drug that mimicked a heart attack so that those who did the autopsy could announce C.O.D. as a heart attack, righteous punishment from Kira above.

I shook my head in disbelief. Even now I was wondering at the sanity of the plan. There was just no way that it could have been pulled off, and yet here I was waiting for him. If he didn't show up by tomorrow, then I would just plant a nickel's worth of lead into my skull. He was my only reason for being on this fucking planet and if he wasn't here, then I refused to stay here. Closing my eyes only for a moment I thought back to the brighter and decidedly more pleasurable days spent at Wammy's House.

~_~_~_~_~_

The clicking sound of a lock being turned made me jerk awake. Glancing around hurriedly, I noticed that it was three in the morning and the news was still going on. Rolling to the side on instinct, I whipped out my gun and pointed it at the door. My heart was beating painfully against my broken ribs and my hands were shakily holding the gun at who could be an attacker. The old door swung open tiredly and the most beautiful thing walked in. Blond singed hair, black leather, alligator-skin boots, all of it.

Dropping the gun carelessly on the ground, I rushed at him and crushed Mello against the wall. I was sobbing uncontrollably on his neck and he softly hugged back. Just like that, with the door still opened to the cold world outside I felt that my heart could be content forever. I would be happy until the end of time with Mello right here besides me. My delicate, broken Mello. I would heal him, I would love him, I would hold him close.

That's what I thought would happen, but I was a selfish human. I couldn't remain happy when I realized that Mello would not care for me the same way I cared for him. I thought that he would hold me at night and that we would spend days enjoying nothing but each other's company, but none of that happened. The days leading up to Near's victory tore at my mind, further shredding what was left of my sanity. Although less harshly, the slaps, kicks, and insults were still there. The sneer was shot half-heartedly at me and those cruel fingers never touched me with love or even care.

At night, he would suffer the night terrors that reminded him of his hazardous life, and I would go into his room to hold him tightly. If he woke up, he would struggle against me until the exhaustion would take him far deeper than I ever would. We should have been fucking happy, and I couldn't understand why we weren't. Kira was going to lose, L would be avenged, and the both of us were alive, free to do whatever we wanted.

It was a clear day when we witnessed the victory of L's true successor from a distance. My gadgets allowed for us to hear what was going on from the safety of a utility truck a quarter of a mile away. Since bugs couldn't be planted at the building ahead of time, I settled for using a high tech parabolic microphone that was able to pick up everything said inside. Everything proceeded just as Mello thought it would and we drove away solemnly after Near's brute announced that Light Yagami was dead. We couldn't hear the Shinigami since we never touched that notebook ourselves, but we didn't need to hear it to fully understand what was going on. Everything was all too clear.

Even clearer was the fact that our lives weren't going to be anything like I wanted it to be. We were ghosts in this world and we no longer had a purpose. Well, I was happy enough to be with Mello, but he couldn't just sit still for the rest of his life. With nothing to do, he turned his aggression towards me. I…I saw that he didn't mean it. I knew that Mello didn't put anything into his hits, that he was struggling to bring normalcy to us while trying to find something to do with himself.

I crossed my breaking point nearly a month after Kira was killed. Sitting down against the couch, I was playing with my handheld game as usual. Mello walked up to me licking his barely touched chocolate bar. His voice interrupted my game, but what he said forced my mind to a screeching halt.

"Matt, I…I'm leaving."

It was at that moment that all my selfishness erupted. Everything that I had buried inside myself since I ran away to follow my Mello, my god, my life, _everything _finally boiled over in a violent wave. I couldn't take it anymore, and for the first time in my life I completely lost control.

My mind snapped.

**Well? I hope that you will all review! I struggled a little with this first chapter since I was getting a feel for the whole thing, but I think that the following chapters will be a lot more enjoyable. Well, enjoyable in a sad angsty kind of way. XD**

**Oh, and yes, he smoked two and a half packs in a day. That's still realistic! As for the "two ton" dumpster, I think that that's a little bit of an exaggeration.**


	2. My Happy Ending

**This chapter isn't really angsty or gory, but it's supposed to be setting the stage. If any of you have suggestions for a dark and depressing song, please let me know in a review! These damn Christmas songs and movies aren't doing anything for my angsty creative juices. Also, I do not own Avril Lavigne's song _My Happy Ending_ I just used some of the lyrics and used it as the inspiration for this chapter. Seriously, I need something angstier than Avril...**

My heavy panting echoed in the room as I tried to calm myself down. Everything seemed to be spinning around, making me feel even sicker than I was. The strong scent of blood drowned all other smells and I heaved for a few moments. I was still trying to register what had happened, but my brain still wasn't ready to accept the facts.

Looking down, I saw my bruised fists were dripping with still warm blood and Mello was lying on the ground unconscious. That golden crown of his hair was streaked with crimson and the cheap carpet beneath his face was slowly drinking up his life-blood. Seeing so much red scared me, but at the same time it fascinated me. I, the weak puppy, had dared to bite at the master and I bit freakin' hard. However, the taste of human flesh was still in my mouth, and I would never, could never, forget it.

Chuckling quietly, I studied the strange sensation still tingling through all of my limbs. I've had an adrenaline rush before, but this was so much more than that. This feeling made my adrenaline rushes feel like nothing more than cheap meth. A few minutes later I came up with a hypothesis: I was having a power trip. For the first time in my life I had hit back and I liked it. Was this how Mello felt when he hit me? Was this why he couldn't stop hurting me?

A small moan came from the huddled form on the floor, forcing me to look over at him. Being careful to stay quiet, I walked over to him and knelt down. He was so skinny that even his leather clothing was beginning to sag on him. Bruises peeked out from under his vest, a stark contrast to his unhealthy pale skin. My shaking bloody hand brushed back the blond hair to reveal his lovely face. Blood still trickled down from his nose and the perfect visage was marred with the marks from my hands.

At first, it made me sad to see him lying there helplessly, but the more I stared, the angrier I became. All I wanted was for Mello to be healthy, to love me, to stay with me. Was that so much to ask for? I had left any hope of a normal life for him, had murdered for him, had put my very life on the line for _him_!

"It's not too much," I whispered through gritted teeth. "Mello, it's not too much."

If I let him leave me this time, I might never find him again. No, it was a certainty that I would never find him again and we both knew it. This time, I wasn't going to sit back and take it in the balls. I wasn't ever going to let him leave me again. Pressing my lips against his, I tried to put in all of my heartfelt feelings into it. The taste of his blood in my mouth did nothing to deter my stolen kiss. It only spurred me forward more, dragging my swollen tongue across his chocolaty broken lips. Oh, what I wouldn't do to get those lips to kiss me back with fervor, even if it was like the kiss we shared before our certain doom. I could handle being hurt again if it was just for that damning kiss.

Pulling back, I looked down at him again with uncertainty shining in my eyes. Although it was going against years and years of behavior training, I was getting ready to stand up to Mello. Well, I was going to do more than that, but it was all in the name of love and concern. I just loved him far too much to let him go.

~_~_~_~_~_

Steaming water bit mercilessly at my back, turning all of my tender skin bright red. Forcing my clenched eyes open, I glanced at my bruised and swollen knuckles. Heh, Mello was a tough fucker even when it came to beating him up. Taking a deep shaky breath, I decided that my body had endured enough punishment. Yes, even though I'm committed to turning a new leaf and keeping Mello no matter the cost, it didn't mean that I was going to let myself off the hook for hurting him. I had lifted a hand against my beloved one, and I needed to punish myself for that.

Stepping out on the cold tile, I shuddered before rubbing a towel against my scalded skin. The pain made me hiss, but it made me happy too. Glad that the punishment had been dished out, I went in search for my much needed hair product. Looking under the sink, I pulled out my green hair dye and set it on the sink counter. Darn, I was going to have to buy some more at Hot Topic real soon.

"Matt?"

The hoarse voice called out from the bedroom not sounding at all pleased. He sounded more confused than anything, but I knew that confusion would soon give way to fury. Sighing softly, I wrapped the towel around my waist and entered the room.

The sound of metal scraping against metal filled my ears as I came in on Mello testing the handcuffs against the bars of the headboard. His breath-taking eyes glared at me, outshining the bruises and cuts on his face. I just smiled weakly at him.

"Yes, Mello?"

"B-bastard!" he hissed as he tugged on the handcuffs once more. "Take these things off of me now!"

Out of sheer habit, I headed over to the bed to do as he commanded, but I caught myself in time. Staring down at his expectant face, a mixture of anger and sadness filled me. I refused to be the bitch anymore, and he was going to have to learn that.

"Sorry, Mello," I said as nicely as I could, "but I'm not taking your damn orders anymore."

His eyes widened as he stared at me in shock. As expected, he recovered quickly and began thrashing around.

"You son of a bitch! You can't do this to me! I'll fucking kill you! You better take this shit off me now!"

It hurt to see him like this, but I knew that it was for the best. It was going to take some time, but he was eventually going to appreciate what I was doing for him. He would learn to love me, and I was patient enough to wait. I had waited all these years, so a few more weeks, month, years, none of that mattered. It was just time.

On top of that, I had a lot of growing to do myself. I was still acting like the cowering bitch even though I was the one giving orders now. Even as he cursed me in his native tongue and a few other languages I didn't know, I found myself itching to uncuff him and just call all this off. Those two desires, of being stronger and of just giving up, fought mercilessly in my mind which just made me shuffle out of the room with my head hung down. I didn't want Mello to see any weakness or he would be sure to take advantage of me. Again.

~_~_~_~_~_

By the next morning, Mello was still stubbornly cursing at me. He refused to eat, drink, or sleep, and was making every attempt at trying to get free. I used to think that I had eternal patience, but by this point I was tired of it. Grabbing a handkerchief, I sat next to him and struggled to gag him. His teeth snapped angrily at my fingers, his head tossed back and forth, and his body continued thrashing around. The sharp smack of my gloved hand slapping him across the face startled me as much as it startled him. Recovering faster, I quickly tied the cloth around his mouth. A hurt look flashed in his eyes but I ignored it. I was doing what was best for the both of us.

Since the gag was finally in place, I headed to the kitchen. Pulling out one of the sharp knives, I swallowed hard before pressing it against to the flesh above my wrist. Slowly, I etched a cross into my arm, the punishment an irony. The blood beaded quickly on the white flesh before spilling to the cheap linoleum floor. At once, I set the weapon aside and added the pressure to the wound. I wasn't suicidal, so I was being careful with my self-inflicted punishment. It needed to hurt, but not be lethal. If I was going to keep and protect Mello, I couldn't get bothered with being sick or mortally wounded. After a few minutes, I dressed the wound with some gauze and bandages. Eh, it would heal soon enough.

Going back to the room with a cup of water, I was determined to get some of the liquid down Mello's stubborn-ass throat. As soon as he saw me, his bare legs began thrashing and those aquamarine eyes shot daggers at me. Carefully holding on to those perfectly shaped legs, I eased on the bed, cursing lightly as a few drops of water spilled on the soft covers. He was obviously cursing me through the gag, but I stroked his cheek lovingly.

"There, there, just calm down."

He made an unhappy grunt and flipped me off. Patting his leg affectionately, I held his chin firmly and slowly dribbled water down his throat. He choked and sputtered before closing his throat. Shrugging, I made sure to moisten the handkerchief so that he could at least keep his mouth wet. At least that would keep him sort of kind of hydrated.

"Mello?"

I stroked his thigh carefully. I wanted to let him know how much I loved him, adored him, but before any of those words could pass my lips, a well placed kick to my still sore shoulder knocked me and what was left of the water to the floor. The glass shattered pretty easily, digging into the soft skin of my palm.

Normally, I would have laughed something like this off. Mello was Mello, right? Why should I expect civility or at least some fucking decency? Mello was motherfucking Mello, and he couldn't be bothered with something as menial as thankfulness.

Anger was pumping through my veins as I stood up slowly. My habitual patience tried its damnest to keep the unfamiliar emotion at bay even as I pulled the thick shard from my palm. I was going to need stitches.

"I have tried to be patient," I hissed at the now-wary blond.

He had never seen my full fury unleashed before but he knew by the look on my face that this was not going to be good for him. I was showing him another face, one that I had never imagined would have bubbled up since my father stabbed my mother to death in front of me.

"You just have to make everything so fucking complicated, don't you? You _have_ to push me to the edge because that's who you are, right Mello?" Stepping over the glass, I leaned over to hiss in his confused face. "Well guess what, bastard? I'm sick of it."

Then I did it again. Bruises blossomed across his pale skin, the blood from broken vessels rushing to the surface. The skin broke in a few places, releasing the crimson rivers but that didn't stop me. The sound of a breaking rib is what did stop me.

We were both panting for air, but his breaths were more shallow and with pained whimpers breaking the breathing pattern. I could tell that he was stubbornly keeping any cries of pain inside, trying not to give me the "pleasure" of hearing him break. My hands were burning with more pain as I slipped off the bed and proceeded to pick up the broken pieces of glass. Carrying them to the trash in the kitchen I just shook my head, trying to force down my rage. Turning on the cold water in the sink, I let it run over the swollen flesh of my hands, entranced by the red tint swirling down the drain. Adding soap, I barely registered the sting from my cut. It took longer for me to ride out the high this time, but I did come crashing down.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I muttered as I turned off the faucet. "No, it's not me. It's Mello. If he wasn't so…gah, he's such an ass. All his fault, all of it."

I took a few more minutes to stitch my right hand up and wrap it before going back to the bedroom to patch Mello up. When he heard me coming in, he tried to curl in on himself without much success. I could easily see the damage done to his wrists from trying to escape and I just shook my head with a sigh. Being careful to stay on alert lest he kick me in the face this time, I pulled away the blankets and set down my personal first aid kit.

"I know it's hard for you to quit being such a bitch Mello, but at least try." I continued to talk even as I cleaned the wounds up, if only to block out his pained sounds. "It's not like you're a prisoner or anything. As a matter of fact, if you behave like a good boy, I'll release you from the handcuffs."

Upon hearing that, he forced his eyes to stare at me. I could tell that he was studying me, trying to see if I was being serious or not. Honestly, I probably would uncuff him if I was guaranteed that he wouldn't try to run away. Maybe I could put him on a leash until he learned to behave himself once more. That included not hitting me anymore.

"Yes, I'm being serious, Mello. If you're going to be civil, I'll take off the gag right now. Will you be good?"

He nodded slowly, so I reached over and pulled off the gag. He worked his jaw a little as I continued to clean up the cuts. I was trying to work up to the broken rib, but he kept trying to edge away from me. Feeling bad, I gently stroked his cheek to try to comfort him. He just jerked his head away from my hand.

"Hey, hey, it's ok. Just let me clean you up."

"Let me fucking go, and I'll clean my damn self up!"

Sighing, I shook my head.

"Mello," I replied sternly. "I'm not going to let you run away from me."

I could see his own rage burning fiercely behind his eyes, but he was no fool. He had already seen what happened when he pissed me off and the fact that he was at a disadvantage made him double think everything.

"I'm not going to run away," he said calmly, swallowing hard to keep his temper in check. "These da-, I mean, these cuffs just hurt like hell."

He was testing me, seeing if I would really just take his word for it. It was like in a game where you throw some weak magic at the boss to test his weaknesses. Did I look that stupid to him? No, he knew that I would see right through that. His aim definitely was to find the weakness in me so that he could exploit it.

"Please Mello, don't insult my intelligence," I responded flatly as I took a firmer grip of his hip to keep him still as I applied more alcohol to the open wounds.

"Don't you trust me?"

Ah, now trying to appeal to my oversensitive and erratic emotions.

"Why do you want to leave me?" I shot back, turning the tables on him. Before he could reply, I continued. "Am I not good enough for you? I mean, I think that us being together for as long as we have has got to mean something, right? Who was the one who fucking cleaned up after your messes? Who was the one who held your head out of the fucking toilet while you puked away your worries from the damn Kira case?! Why doesn't any of that count?!!"

"It does!" he replied, worry creasing between his brows. "Mattie, this is fucking insane! I nearly killed you!"

"But I didn't die, and neither did you!"

Neither of us were very good at talking about those damn feelings fluttering about our nearly frozen hearts, and this whole conversation carried on like a freakin' soap opera. Seriously, this stuff was rich.

"Matt…Mail…" Another twinge shot through the said heart. "We both know that I can't just sit on my ass. I'm leaving to keep you safe, and you know it! Just let go!"

I shook my head, swiping the first aid kit clean off the bed. It crashed into the wall with a clatter before the contents spilled over the cheap and fucking ugly carpet.

"If I gave a damn about my safety, I wouldn't have stuck with you as long as I have," I hissed as I stared into those steely eyes. "I wouldn't have spit in Kira's face along with you. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

He actually looked down to hide his feelings from me.

"Matt, it only means that you're fucking stupid." A silence hung heavily between us for a long moment before he continued slowly and softly. "If I don't stop you now, you'll never stop. You can't see what's fucking in front of you because you're too distracted with me."

"What am I supposed to do?!" I cried as I held my head in my hands.

I couldn't understand all of this! When you loved someone, weren't you supposed to stay with them forever? Weren't you supposed to live happily ever after? I couldn't do that with anyone but Mello, I just couldn't. No one else had such depth, such a demanding demeanor. I had become completely addicted to him, every bit of him, and I was helpless. I couldn't quit him as easily as I could drop all those other drugs. None of them could even compare to the look in Mello's eyes as he swelled up in total badassness. Just one taste of his cold lips and I would die without it ever again.

"Matt, you're making this so much more difficult than it has to be," he tried. "If you would just let me go, then you would recover faster. You always wanted a nice normal life, didn't you?"

My head jerked up at his mentioning that. It was rare that I had ever mentioned my secret dream to him and on all of the occasions where I shared it with him I was sure that he wasn't paying attention.

"Yeah, you want a nice quiet life where you can buy one of those ugly little lap dogs and just cuddle on the couch with the person you cared for! You know I can't do that, Mattie, I never will. It's best to find someone who can."

"Why can't you do that for me, Mello? Damn it all, Mihael! I _murdered _for you! Why can't you just stay with me and be like that?"

"I just can't!"

"Bull shit. Fucking bull shit." Ripping some of the hair from my scalp I looked up and gave him a scalding stare. "You can and you fucking will. I've had to live with your bitching and commanding for long enough. I was even happy to live that way! But no more, not when you just want to leave me."

Mello's tightly controlled tempter seemed to flare out of the control at my ordering him around. He was never one to take any kind of orders and I knew that. He couldn't help but lash out at me for daring to push his buttons.

"Who the hell do you fucking think you are, you worthless piece of shit?! You can't make me do jack!"

"Do you really wanna bet?" I asked darkly before straddling over his hips. Grabbing a fistful of that glorious blond hair, I jerked his head back so that he could stare right into my icy blue eyes. "If I'm a piece of shit, then you're lower than that, bitch. You're nothing more than scum. You're going to learn to properly respect me, and we _are _going to be happy together."

We were nothing more than terrible victims of circumstance. Mello and I, two peas in a pod. We might have been very different kinds of beans, but we were in a fucking pod. It might have been the effects of several stressful years chasing after Kira, it might have been nothing more than me being an ass, or it might have even been a buried part of me that finally decided to rear its ugly head. Regardless, some kind of breaking point had been reached and I couldn't stop. I was in a car that was headed for the edge of a cliff and all I could do was push harder on the gas pedal. To my fuddled mind, it made perfect sense. I would break Mello, I would make him love me just the way that I loved him. I didn't want to hurt him, but he would hurt himself if I didn't warp him into the perfect loving doll that I wanted. As I sat on the edge of the bed panting from beating the shit out of him again, it was funny how I never noticed that those happy memories were slowly melting away. That golden smile was fading and was being replaced with something else far less desirable. I didn't notice, couldn't notice…

_You were everything, everything that I wanted_

_We were meant to be, supposed to be_

_But we lost it_

_All of the memories so close to me just fade away…_

**Ok, so this chapter officially sucks. -headdesk- I'll definitely do better on the next one! Also, sorry for the long wait on this one! The rest of them should come out sooner than that. Thanks for all the reviews and don't forget to give me some more! XD**


	3. Pain

**:3 Once again, sorry for the delay. This chapter is quite a complicated one. Just so that no one gets confused, I am intentionally making Matt contradict himself in certain things. Keep in mind that he is suffering from a psychological breakdown. Those are not pretty, and he is actually handling it pretty well, lol.**

**Warnings: angst, blood, gore, explicit details, some sexual content, and lots of filthy language**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DeathNote or eBay  
**

A sigh of relief broke the silence of the mostly empty room. Cracking my neck, I looked down happily as my computer screens flickered to life. The image of a beautifully naked woman came up clearly, my few desktop icons carefully placed around her body. She was blond, of course, and she had a cruel smirk planted on her painted lips. I chuckled a little as I recalled the first time Mello saw my background. With all the decency of a Catholic ex-Mafia man, he had choked on his chocolate and slapped a gloved hand over his stunning eyes. He had ordered that I remove, and I quote, "that cock-sucking, flat-chested bitch" off my computer. Of course, the effect was lost as he continued to childishly keep his hand over his eyes.

Falling flat on my back, I leaned my head back to get a better view of the bedroom doorway. Mello's bare feet were visible, hanging off the foot of the bed as he continued in his morphine-induced sleep. Rolling over to my stomach, I dragged myself to my feet and approached the spacious new bedroom. The entire house I just bought for the two of us was spacious with its ten feet ceilings and wide door frames, but I made sure that the master bedroom was the biggest of all.

For too long, me and Mello have been stuck in stinky shit holes and in cramped spaces with a dozen sweaty, horny men. I refused to do it any more; I wasn't going to live in cardboard boxes anymore. The openness of the rooms and the cheery colors calmed my hyperactive mind down, giving me a warm tingly feeling that was probably the closest I have ever felt to being at home. Of course, it wouldn't be home if Mello hadn't come, so I drugged him up and brought him here without our few belongings.

The expensive place came fully furnished which saved me the hassle of trying to buy matching shit, but I sold a bunch of the unnecessary decorating crap on eBay. Clenching my toes in the soft carpet, I looked down at my sleeping angel splayed out against the dark covers. Sleep had smoothed away the angry wrinkles on his forehead and had softened his features almost back to its childish innocence.

Taking the opportunity to be near him without him trying to kill me, I sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his smooth back. His skin was so ridiculously soft, unlike my own dry, chapped skin. Trailing my fingers up, I gently rubbed the edge of his burn scars. He grunted unhappily in his sleep, but I continued to touch. I knew that the flesh on the edges of the scars was hypersensitive since the flesh above the nerves had been almost completely burned away. The rest of the scars alternated between the hypersensitive and the deadened flesh where even the nerves had been burned away.

"You're so fucked up," I whispered softly as I let my fingers trail down to the angry red flesh of his wrists.

I didn't want to keep him handcuffed, but I knew that it was the only thing keeping him here with me. The only reason he wasn't cuffed up right now was because he was too doped up to run away.

"Tch, I'm pretty fucked up myself. Seriously, drugging you to have my way with you? Damn, I'm such a sleaze ball."

Somehow, hearing those words spill from my own lips didn't make me feel bad at all. My own mind in its sick, demented way refused to believe that I was that bad even when I admitted it to myself. Hell, I'm pretty sure that arguing with yourself is some kind of mentally unstable indicator, but who gives a fuck? Yep, definitely not me. All I cared about was keeping my lover beside me.

I was a little surprised when Mello's eyes blinked open sleepily. For a moment I was afraid that he was going to kick the shit out of me for being so close to him, but the familiar hazed look in his eyes calmed me down some. He was still drugged up.

He looked around the room in confusion, but I scooted closer and wrapped my arms around him to comfort him.

"I bought us a house," I whispered proudly into his ear. "It's a nice big house so that we can make it a home."

"A home?" he asked softly as his sharp mind struggled to fight through the murky effects of the morphine in his system.

"Yeah, the two of us are finally going to have a home."

"…W-wammy's?"

The very sound of that damn place made me angry. It may have been a type of home long ago, but it left nothing but bitterness and painful longing in my heart.

"No, this is _our_ home, not that place."

"Our home," he stated back clearly, sending a painful jolt of pure happiness right into my heart.

Instead of answering, I pressed a desperate kiss to his lips. I needed this home, his body, his love, his very presence. The thought of him trying to run away again made me cling even tighter to him, taking his breath away with the needy kiss until he was literally struggling against me just to breath. For a moment I didn't feel those hands pounding against my chest, that heart beating rapidly in fear, that body squirming for salvation. Pulling away from his lips, I heard his gasping for air as my tongue dragged along the scarred cheek.

It was all like a breath of fresh air rushing into my system and making me light-headed. My heart beat desperately against my rib cage as I continued to dominate him. I would swear on Kira's grave to never touch a speck of drugs ever again if I could only bask in this feeling, touch this heavenly being, feast on his toxic being. If I could only have him, I would never again want for anything. I could be damned to fucking hell and it wouldn't matter because I had already seen the light. It completely blinded me.

I didn't want this moment to be fake, but in a cold dark corner of my mind I knew it was. That's why I slipped the needle into my vein again, then into his flawless flesh. I was careful not to overdo it; there was just enough to shut that fucker in the back of my mind up. Mello grinned up at me and brushed back some of those green tinted strands.

"Bees eat purple clouds," he stated seriously making me snort in amusement.

Mello always was a pussy when he did drugs. That's why he stuck to drinking, really; he was an angry drunk and that helped him to keep up his macho reputation. He never wanted to show the sensitive and delicate side that was weaved into his very being.

"Yes they do," I replied softly to pacify him.

Pushing him on his back, I slipped off his boxers with one hand while I slathered three of my fingers with spit. I could see a hint of fury deep in those aquamarine eyes, but what little was left of my self-control had been thrown out the window at the sight of his naked body. _Parfait_, _perfetto_, _perfekt_, perfect, nothing in all the languages known to mankind could describe the man that was driving me utterly insane.

I touched him, kissed him, loved him, hurt him, only him. It was greed, lust, and envy contorted in a violent three-way raping my mind into oblivion. Soon, that's all it was, oblivion. There were no ringing bells, brilliant colors, or even the angel choir you read about in porn novels. There was blinding whiteness and a moment of painful breathlessness.

Although it seemed like an eternity, my senses returned to me after a few seconds. Mello was still under me, gasping in pain and wearing an utterly sinful look. Fuck, that look alone was going to give me another orgasm. He shuddered again, clenching around my softening cock.

Seeing that he was still uncomfortably hard, I slipped out of him and positioned myself into a more familiar position. Slowly, I dragged my tongue along the hot underside of his cock. Jerking with a choked cry, Mello clenched his eyes shut and gripped the sheets with that all-too-familiar grip. I felt myself hardening again shamelessly as I continued to tease him with my well-practiced tongue, and how could I not?

Although the drugs made him more vulnerable, he was still attempting to stifle noises that proved how much he did enjoy me. Still, hearing the few sounds of pleasure elated me to new heights of pleasure. He liked it, he really did.

Unable to hold back anymore, I deep-throated his member and savored the smooth skin and the taste that was undeniably Mello. Sucking hard and fast, I wasn't surprised when the hot liquid ran down my throat as a hoarse scream rang out. Swallowing everything, I leaned back and jerked myself off to the sight of my violated saint. Tensing, the whiteness came back. It wasn't as heart-stopping as when I was fucking Mello, but that was to be expected.

Looking at the blood seeping into the bed sheets, it was easy to imagine that I was his first, that no one else had touched him the way that I did. For this short moment, I felt special. I felt like the luckiest man alive. Never mind that I had to drug my sweetheart or that there was no real willingness or love on his part. For now, this was good enough. Being able to hold him, to kiss him, it was all fucking worth it. I pulled Mello up against my feverish body, slipping my bare leg between his thighs. He grunted in pain, but I was too tired to move. As I drifted off to sleep I vaguely tried to remember when I had had the time to get naked.

~_~_~_~_~_

Something wasn't quite right.

I was viciously torn from my much needed sleep only to look around and see nothing out of the ordinary. Breathing heavily, I scanned the room once more just to find it empty. Then it hit me like a damn freighter. The bed was empty.

"Shit!" I hissed as I jumped to my pile of clothes.

One quick look and I knew that my gun was gone.

"You fucker!" I growled as I slipped on my pants and cautiously made my way out of the room.

I was afraid that he was long gone by now, but there was still hope. He needed clothes and painkillers before he could run off, both of which would take some searching to find. Yes, I was a messy packer.

The sound of numerous capsules hitting the tile floor nearly made me jump out of my skin. Suddenly everything went still. Mello was afraid he had woken me up and was now listening for any sign of movement. Pinching my nose, I held my breath as I approached the kitchen. If I made so much as a tiny sound, I knew it was game over; I would have a bullet between my eyes before I could even blink.

Luckily, I had plenty of practice sneaking around as a kid and my ability to hold my breath had greatly improved after my last few water boarding experiences. Yeah, working for the Mafia was a bitch.

Peeking around the kitchen doorway, I saw that Mello was awkwardly crouched down facing the other direction. He was trying to hurriedly put the painkillers back into their container. I really had his OCD to thank for that; he could have just left that shit on the floor and ran, but seeing messes really did a number on him. He either had to arrange them into a complex vector pattern or he had to clean it up. He had probably been the only Mafia boss with a clean hideout.

Just as I was trying to decide how best to get the gun away from him, a gunshot rang out harshly and the deadly 115 grams of metal sunk into the wall behind me. Instinctively, I jumped behind the wall in order to put an obstacle between me and the rest of the bullets.

"That was a warning, asshole!" Mello shouted, fury making his voice tremble. "Next time, you're dead."

"You fucking shot at me!" I screeched in a mixture of terror and anger.

A gun had been put to my head countless times, but I had always known that he would never shoot it. Now I wasn't so sure; this time was different.

"Of course I did, you bastard! You've gone fucking crazy!"

Those words seemed to stop me just as effectively as any bullet would. Crazy? I had uttered that very word to him so many times: sometimes in jest, other times in al seriousness. Although I never considered myself normal or even sane, hearing someone else state what I had already known really brought it into focus. I was bat-shit crazy.

"Matt?" Mello called out nervously.

Aww, was be afraid that he hurt my already scarred feelings? It was all too funny really, this whole situation. I considered just sitting back and letting this thorn in my flesh finally get the hell away from me. Without Mello I would never have to get shot at again. I would never kill, steal, shoot, get tortured, or be driven to insanity by lust and desire. I could find someone who would love me back, who would care for me, never yell at me or beat me. It all sounded fine and dandy, but…I would be empty. That hollow smile I hated so much would come back, those meaningless hours, days, years, or existence! I just couldn't live like that again!

"I love you, Mello," I stated clearly as I stared at the dark hole in the wall. "I love you so fucking much."

In one fluid motion, I was on my feet and charging at the man with the gun. A part of me was hoping that he would just shoot and end this all for me, for us. If I lived, I would continue to hunt him down, to lock him up, just for me. Unfortunately for him, or rather, the both of us, he never fired off another round.

I plowed into him, knocking the pills and the gun out of his hands. His back collided with the dandle of a cupboard making him cry out in pain, but he was far from helpless. Blunt nails dug into my arms and his bare feet mercilessly assaulted my body. Punching him in the face, I grunted as one of his knees got close to hitting me in the balls. Soon I realized that he was going after the pressure points and I was forced to defend myself or end up on the floor paralyzed in pain. One of his kicks didn't retract fast enough, so I pinned his leg against my side and flung him to the cold tile. The handle had torn open his back but he continued to fight like a gladiator on steroids. He scratched at my face nearly succeeding at taking out an eye.

Blood spilled between our bodies as we both struggled desperately to win. Having forgotten about the gun, everything became a weapon. Teeth, nails, palms, elbow, thighs, even out skin seemed to be fighting. Hair was yanked out at the roots, skin was ripped open, blood blinded eyes, and fingernails were ripped off by the sheer intensity of their clawing.

Feral screams of battle echoed in the mostly empty kitchen as we forced our bodies to continue this sick struggle. It was archaic, fighting hand to hand. Nowadays people settled their differences in court or with a fancy gun. People no longer soiled their hands or fought with manly pride. They all hid behind their pawns and shuddered in fear of being found. That was not us, not now.

A sickening crack ended the two-man war just as suddenly as my words of love had started it.

Gasping uncontrollably, I pulled away to see Mello trying to hold back shrieks of pain. My leg had somehow managed to twist his forearm too far, breaking the malnourished bone. Wiping the blood from my eyes or what could have been tears, I looked down at the mangled blond.

"Stay with me," I choked as I forced myself to apply pressure to the fracture.

"N-no!" he screamed desperately, trying to avoid the pain by being still.

"Stay with me! Shit, just please fucking stay with me!"

The sound of the broken bones grinding against each other made me sick, but I pushed on. Tears slipped down his face as he tried to keep from sobbing, but it was a losing battle. Was it really that much punishment for him to stay with me? Was I such a horrible person that he would rather face this pain than say something to the effect of "yes"? Was I really that disposable? Before I gave up, a single word was uttered.

"O-ok," he whispered before breaking down.

Hearing that word, that precious word was enough to send me back up to the heights of joy. I released his arm to hold him up and plant kisses all over his face.

"Mnn, say it again, Mello, say it again."

Sadly, he didn't say it again. He just sobbed and wailed in my arms. I couldn't help but thing that he wasn't just crying in pain. He was crying in shame for giving up, for breaking. Those were tears of devastation as his legendary self-control and stubbornness were shattered. I didn't just break him physically. I broke something else deep inside of him. Me, the dog, the weakling.

I broke him.

~_~_~_~_~_

"This is why I stick to video games," I muttered in annoyance as I struggled to patch both me and Mello up.

It had taken half and hour before he had calmed down enough for me to move us to the master bathroom. Washing up the both of us had proved to be challenging as any contact with water made us cringe. Still, there was no choice; the wounds needed to be cleaned. After lathering up myself, I was able to gently wash out his silky hair before lathering him up. Trying to salvage any machismo that he could, Mello didn't flinch as the soap washed away the filth. He just focused on keeping me away from his broken arm.

"Alright, I've got to tend to that arm now," I commanded softly.

Whether he liked it or not, we couldn't just leave it as it was. He would end up with a deformed and weak arm if it was left alone.

"I'll take care of it," he retorted stubbornly.

He shot me a hateful look, but I ignored it. I needed to focus on fixing him up before I could bitch slap him.

"Give your damn hand to me now," I hissed as I took a firm hold of his bruised shoulder.

I was surprised when he flinched away from my touch, but he slowly extended the damaged arm. Disgust was painted all over his face and he couldn't even look me in the eye. Sighing in frustration and worry, I examined the darkened flesh before applying a little pressure to feel out the break. Unfortunately, that move on my part resulted in a high-pitched shriek and Mello jerking the injured limb away from me.

"That motherfucking HURT!" he yelled at me before flinching away as if he expected to be hit again.

"Fucking hell, will you quit acting like a kicked puppy?" I snapped as I shook my head. "And I know it hurts, dumbass, but I still need to find the break so that I can be sure to set it right."

He looked away in anger and in shame. What I said was true and he knew it, but he didn't want to have me help him. Mello wanted to continue hating me and if I took care of him, he couldn't do that.

"Do you have to do it now?" he asked quietly before correcting himself in a more assertive voice. "I mean, just wait until we at least get out of the tub."

Nodding, I chuckled to myself. He was just so moody! Glomping him from behind, I pulled his head back and planted a kiss on his split lips. He tensed up and refused to return my affection, but that didn't deter me. I was sure that he could learn to love me the way I wanted him to love me.

"It's all going to get better," I whispered comfortingly into his ear. "Mello, I love you more than I love all my games put together."

I was rewarded with nothing but the dripping of water from the faucet mouth into the cooling water of our bath.

**Phew, there it was! I'm kind of weirded out by the fact that I used so many lists, but whatever. If anyone finds it really distracting, let me know and I'll go back and do something to fix it. As always, I'm open to any kinds of suggestions and I really would appreciate reviews from the readers. Now, I think that this is a good place to ask this question. Do you guys want this story to have a happy ending or a sad ending? When I say happy, I don't mean sappy fluff garbage that goes at the end of some fairy tale. That stuff doesn't belong in this fic. **

**PLEASE REVIEW!!! And I think I've worked out a decent writing schedule, so hopefully the next chapter will be up in a reasonable amount of time. Thanks for taking the time to read this, and a special thanks to all those who have reviewed/favorited/alerted this story. ROCK ON!  
**


	4. Dust In The Wind

**All righty! This chapter is kind of a filler for what's going to be happening next and it's also giving a breather. Since this entire story is supposed to be intense, I felt that something like this would be appreciated while keeping everything fresh and believable. As usual there will be foul language, but that's about it for this chapter. I hope you guys enjoy!  
**

As I sat on the couch watching some late night shit I made an important discovery.

I had always been stronger than Mello; he had just been smarter than me. It was like vampires vs. werewolves. Since the vampires couldn't match the werewolves in strength, they tricked them into servitude. Then the werewolves would faithfully serve their blood-sucking masters until one day they realize that they are strong enough to be the masters. Once that realization sunk in, the vampires were screwed.

Well, more than being smarter than me, he was far better at manipulating than I was. Mello had always used his words and charm to get what he wanted and I wasn't any different to him than all the others he used. I was stupid enough to fall into servitude and even stupider for not noticing it. Near never fell for those deceitful words and that's probably why he was first and I was third. L had seen what I had blinded myself to and had named his successors accordingly. What if he could see us now? Would I be number one for surviving enslavement and overcoming it?

The sound of Mello slinking to the kitchen like a dog with its tail between its legs broke my train of thought. It was pretty annoying actually. For the past few days Mello had been swinging through the whole fucking spectrum of moods. It was as if he couldn't decide who he was anymore, and it was really grating on my nerves. Where did my hot-headed dominatrix go?

"Mello, what the fuck are you doing?" I asked in annoyance, referring to his mood.

"Getting chocolate," he grumbled.

Looking over the back of the couch, I narrowed my eyes at him.

"We're out."

For a moment, I thought he was going to take the bait. I saw the flash of anger, the familiar desire to tell me to get my ass up and get him some chocolate. The funny thing was that I was hoping that's what he would do. I wanted to go buy him some chocolate, to do something to get him out of this little funk. Now that he was going to stay with me, I didn't really mind if he tried dominating again. I wasn't going to allow him to beat me up ever again, but I did want to hear him bitch every once in a while.

"Oh."

He looked down and began making his way back to the bedroom and I could only sigh. If he wasn't going to be bitchy Mello anymore, he could at least be happy wife Mello. I'd like that a hell of a lot too.

"Hey, I was just kidding, there's still some in the 'fridge."

I could almost hear his teeth grinding in frustration at me, but he kept unnaturally silent and just slunk over to the kitchen again. In a few seconds I heard the brand new refrigerator open and then close almost immediately. Like a 40-year-old ghost haunting my house, he once again made his way back into the bedroom. And "click", the door was closed.

Sighing, I shut off the television and made my way to the bedroom. With all of my injuries, it was too much pain to put clothes on, so I was more than happy to walk around the house in nothing but my boxers. Unfortunately, my lover didn't feel the same way. With all his powers of stubbornness, he would pull on a pair of my skinny jeans and one of my less worn checkered shirts. Although he looked utterly delectable, his sharp glare let me know that he wasn't ready to make love again.

Once I entered the bedroom, I saw Mello sitting on the edge of the bed with his chocolate bar in one hand and a newspaper held awkwardly in the other since it was held against his body in a sling. He ignored me even when I gently eased next to him. Glancing over his shoulder to look at the newspaper, I was pretty darn surprised to see that he was reading the comics. Gaping, I looked up at his face to see him staring at the comic strips with serious intensity. After recovering from the initial shock, a smile broke on my face.

"Why so serious?" I asked in a bad imitation of the Joker from the Dark Night.

Sheesh, it's been a long time since I saw that movie.

"Leave me the fuck alone," he hissed, turning his back to me.

Ok, this was not the bitchy Mello I liked. Grabbing his shoulder, I turned him to face me.

"Don't fuck with me Mello, I'm not taking it!" He opened his mouth to yell back, but a sharp slap across his face shut him up. "This is all your fault, you know! I'm _trying_, but you don't want to even put forth any effort at all! I've helped you and done so damn much! The least you can do is pretend to be happy with me!"

Grabbing his chin, I forced those breath-taking eyes to look into my own blue eyes. There were no goggles to block the view, no bangs pulled forward. Just naked eyes and naked eyes.

"You owe this to me," I said forcefully.

Pulling the paper from his hand, I took his good hand and tugged him further on the bed. Careful not to agitate his fracture, I pulled him under the new covers with me. He didn't resist as I wrapped arms around him and I planted soft kisses on his forehead. His eyes were darkened with a troubled look, but I was too tired to worry about that.

~_~_~_~_~_

I had been so worried about Mello trying to run away again that I hadn't really been able to sleep the past few nights. I would wake up every 30 minutes and would stare at him for at least an hour before I was satisfied that he wasn't going anywhere. Because of this, when I groggily woke up to see the clock reading 10:00 AM instead of 2:30 AM, I freaked out. On top of that, the bed was empty.

My heart pounded painfully in my chest as I ran out of the room hoping against all hope that he wasn't gone.

_Thump._

I couldn't live without him, not Mello! My wide eyes scanned the rooms in a panic as I headed towards the back door.

_Thump, Thump, Thump._

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Mello!

_Thump. Thump, Thump. Thump, thump, thump._

Hearing something move in the kitchen, I made a beeline for it. Was he trying to get some more painkillers before once again making a break for it? He said he was going to stay with me, damn it! He was a fucking liar! Charging around the doorway, I was greeted by the sight of Mello awkwardly cooking. He was scowling at the egg he was trying to flip with his left hand.

At first I wasn't sure if I was in some weird dream or not, but a pinch to my arm let me know that this was indeed reality. He didn't leave, he was just hungry. As relief flooded through my body, the aftershocks of terror hit me hard. When he turned to say something to me, the crack of my fist connecting with his bruised jaw replaced the words. Before he could fall back into the counter, my arms were wrapped around him and my face was buried in his neck.

"Holly shit, Mello!" I sobbed with tears of relief. "Don't leave me like that! Don't fucking leave me like that!"

He didn't say anything and just remained in my arms as I struggled to pull myself together. That was one of the scariest moments of my life, and I never wanted to feel that way again. I wanted to be sure that he was going to stay with me; I didn't want to doubt anymore, but it was so hard! After a few minutes of gathering my wits, I realized that he was gasping in pain; that's when I noticed his broken arm pinned between out bodies.

"Oh shit! Sorry, baby, I didn't mean to hurt you!" Doing the only thing I could do to apologize, I pressed kisses all over his face. "Just don't scare me like that. Alright? Just stay in bed with me, ok?"

Kissing his lips once more, I couldn't help but push it. Mello was my drug and I was hungry for it. I wanted to taste that forbidden fruit, to hold my fist out and scream a huge "FUCK YOU" to whatever god was out there. Mello was my only god and we killed Kira to make sure it would stay that way. My tongue teased his lips, hoping to gain permission for entrance. I wanted it so bad, it hurt, but it hurt worse when Mello turned his head away. Thoughts of forcing him to kiss me flashed through my mind, but I really didn't want to hurt him. Instead I just turned my attention to the burning egg.

"Sorry about the egg," I apologized as I scraped it out of the pan and into the garbage. "Wanna have some hash browns with your egg?"

"That…wasn't for me," he sighed, stroking his bruised cheek.

My hand paused over the pan as I turned to face him. The egg plopped onto the hot oil before a smile spread across my face. The spatter of hot oil on my skin didn't even bother me.

"You were trying!" I exclaimed happily. "See, we don't fight when you try!"

Love bubbled in my chest as I pulled him into a gentle hug. He made sure to move his broken arm out of the way and I nuzzled against his neck. Even if it did hurt that he wasn't ready to love me back the way I loved him, the fact that he was beginning to try to work this thing out was comforting. I was sure that if we gave it a few more weeks everything would be ok.

"Matt, your egg."

I was so happy that Mello was finally coming around that I made him some breakfast too and we ate it in the kitchen. Reaching my hand out, I stroked his hand as gently as I could. Maybe my happily ever after wasn't so far away.

~_~_~_~_~_

The sound of Mello screaming broke through the haze of my comfortable dream and effectively jerked me awake. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor as Mello's thin limbs flailed around dangerously. Jumping to my feet, I pulled the sheets away from him so that he wouldn't get all tangled up. Once the sheets were on the floor, I grabbed his legs to protect myself as I leaned over him.

"Mello, wake up! Fuck, wake up, man!"

Snapping his eyes open, Mello looked around in a panic, shooting off a string of foreign words. Getting scared, I pinned his arms down and began whispering comforting words to him. He struggled against me for a few minutes before he finally choked something out in English.

"I can't…can't breathe, fuck Matt, I can't breathe!"

Immediately, I let go of him and watched in sadness as Mello ran to the bathroom and threw up into the toilet. It broke my heart to see his body trembling like that. He had been able to fend off his night terrors lately, but I could see that there was something wearing him down.

Biting my lips I tried to think of some way to help him. Things hadn't been so bad for me because I was able to be in Mello's presence, but it was obvious that he needed something more than my presence to help him out. There was some more morphine in the drawer that I could give him and that would at least help the pain he was no doubt in. Bloody gauze and bandages stood boldly against his pale flesh making me wince. My own injuries didn't look half that bad.

Leaning over the bed, I pulled out two syringes. Frowning as I heard him heave some more, I walked to the bathroom and knelt on the cold tile beside him. Softly, I held his hair out of his face until he finally leaned away from the toilet.

Hey babe, it's ok," I whispered as I pulled him to my chest. Ignoring my own pain, I squeezed him tighter. "Here, this is just to make that pain go away," I offered, but Mello shook his head.

"I don't need that shit," he retorted tiredly.

"Come on, don't be stubborn," I tried again, a little more forcefully. I didn't want to get into another fist fight with him, but I was really worried. All of those injuries had to hurt like hell and they could make him really sick. There was no reason for him to suffer when I had perfectly good drugs for him.

"No Matt, don't," he whimpered as I ignored him and slipped the needle into his vein.

His bandaged fingers dug into my arms painfully, but I just held on. I was going to be here for him just like I always have. Even when he kicked my ass in a drunken rage I was there to clean up his mess, or when he got himself fucked up in that fire I was there to hold his hand and tell him that it was all going to be ok. One day he would return the favor and that in itself was going to be worth all this shit that we've had to go through.

"The best thing about tonight's that we're not fighting," I began to sing. "Could it be that we have been this way before? I know you don't think that I am trying, I know you're wearing thin down to the core. But hold your breath because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you, over again. Don't make me change my mind or I won't live to see another day; I swear it's true, because a guy like you is impossible to find, you're impossible to find."

The rest of the song spilled from my lips easily as I rocked him back and forth in my arms. His turquoise eyes slid shut and his breathing fell into an easy pattern as I continued to whisper the song into his ear. Even when there were no more words, I continued to hum the song as I swept him into my arms and carried him over to the bed. Lying down next to him, I breathed in deeply of his scent and sprinkled little butterfly kisses all over his face.

It didn't take very long for me to relax enough for myself to fall asleep. I could feel that soft warm skin against my own skin, I could taste the sweetness of his chocolate which had permeated every inch of him. Fuck, it was almost too much not to just eat him up, swallow him whole. Was this obsession? Was it really love? This warm flittering feeling in my chest as I thought of him even in my dreams, it was beginning to burn.

The next morning was pretty quiet. Mello pretended like he was impervious of what happened last night and I was getting ready to head off to a job. With all my mad skills, I decided to pick up a freelance job legally hacking and fixing stupid people's computers. With all new technology it wasn't surprising that people were locking themselves out of their own damn computers, but my favorite shit to clean up with the viruses and spam they let on their computers. Still, with that job I was able to send out my own viruses on their computers and test it out.

"I'm going to be going out, 'kay?"

Mello just waved at me while he continued to dig through the cabinets for other clothes to wear. He was getting sick of wearing the same thing all the time, but I didn't have anything else and all he had was his leathers. For some reason, he really hadn't been able to put them on since we dodged the bullet.

"Please stay in the house," I said a little softly. After not getting an answer I decided to ask a question. "Will you be here when I come home?"

"Fuck, just leave," he replied in annoyance. "I'll be right here!"

Still, I just couldn't walk out of the house. I set my bag of techno gadgets down and walked over to him. Pulling him from the cabinet I tilted his head back and pressed a kiss to his beautiful lips. One touch is all it took to make that flame lick at my heart again. It was getting harder and harder to ignore with ever touch, with every kiss.

I knew that Mello wasn't ready to make love, but it was driving me crazy. If he didn't get ready soon, I was going to do something pretty regrettable. I've been living with this addiction, with this pain for too long and my patience had been worn to near non-existence. Even if it was back to me just sucking him off, I was fine with that! I was just desperate to feel him again. His naked hands stroked my face for a moment before pushing me away softly. There was a strange look in his eyes, but I couldn't seem to figure it out. What was he feeling? Was he just pulling my strings until I gave him enough space to run away again? Fuck, all of this was just making me feel sick again.

"I'm leaving," I echoed before forcing myself to really follow through. I really did need to go to work.

~_~_~_~_~_

Home, sweet home never felt so safe and at the same time so foreboding. Walking slowly down the cold street, I watched as flitting snowflakes made their way down to the cold ground. Floating down to be stepped on by heavy boots and to soon float down, forgotten into the drain. Meaningless. Just like me. My fogged breath rolled through the cold air, stroking my pale cheeks with the only softness I was afforded.

Headlights bounced over the small mound in the asphalt, momentarily blinding me. All whiteness like the climax of love. It was empty, lonely, and only for me. I think I stopped breathing for a moment as I stared into that light wondering if Mello saw nothing at all too. Did it hurt him the way that it hurt me? Did he look into the light and see heaven's gates, or did he see oblivion? I felt my arm stretch out, my fingers splaying open as if to reach for what I knew was impossible, but the car passed leaving me in that darkness once more. All alone on the shoulder of a dark road. Even more white powder floated down around me, burning to a sudden death as they came in contact with my warm skin.

"Hahh…" I breathed out watching my breath fade away into the darkness.

Shifting the bag on my shoulder, I continued the long walk home. I wanted to hold Klavdija, my Mello, in my cold arms and just bask in his warmth. There was nothing else out for me in this world, just those arms, those lips, those trembling thighs. A part of me was scared that he didn't stay, that he had taken the chance to laugh at my naivety and skip town, but I tried to swallow that down. If that were the case, then I would have no choice. I would hunt him down until my very last breath.

Reaching the door, I let my eyes slide shut as I pressed my forehead against the cold metal. The keys found their way into the keyhole and the soft click of the lock opening rang painfully in my ears. Swallowing hard, I pushed the door open and stepped into the warmth of my home. Light from the bedroom shone teasingly as I slipped off my heavy lace-up boots. My wet socks soon followed before I began heading towards the bedroom. The lump in my throat refused to leave and a headache was pounding against my temples violently. Hearing nothing from the room only made the ache worse, almost unbearable.

Turning the corner of the door frame, I leaned against the wood and let a shaky sigh slip past my chapped lips. Dark turquoise eyes looked up from behind a worn book and held my own blue eyes while neither of us said anything. Pages crinkled softly as the book was slid shut before being dropped carelessly on the soft carpet. I didn't even realize that I had moved until those mesmerizing eyes closed and our lips met in a soft kiss.

Breathlessness.

Those fingers that killed much easier than they loved tangled into my wet hair and the body that held all the secrets submitted to my passion. Suffocation never felt so sweet, so tender, and so very desirable. Neither of us spoke any kinds of words, instead choosing to let our hearts communicate in a way that language could not imitate. Relief from the hunger washed through my body, baptizing my very soul in worship of Mello, Mihael. Once again, there was nothing but oblivion.

**Once again, thank you to all who have reviewed/alerted/favorited. Please review for this chapter and don't forget to let me know how you guys want this story to end! I really do care for your opinions and it will make it easier for me to shape out the rest of this baby. If you have any suggestions for angsty things to listen to, please let me know as well. It would be much appreciated.**


	5. Moonlight Sonata

**I am on a role!!!!! Whoo hoo! I've finally got an idea of what the ending's going to be like, so this should wrap up in about three to five chapters. Maybe. XD So, once again, any inconsistencies with Matt ARE intentional. Please enjoy the chapter!**

**Warning: Mental angst, foul language, and rape  
**

**

* * *

**"_Please, d-don't kill me! I have a family!"_

_BANG. Blood splattered across my shirt and the wall behind the man's head. His body fell back with a thud and twitched for a moment as I stared into those terrified eyes. Fear. That was the last thing that this man knew. Did he really have a family, or where those words a last attempt to get me to spare his life? Regardless, it didn't matter now. He was dead; I killed him. _

"_Hurry up, Matt," the familiar voice called to me. _

_Turning around to leave the body at the mercy of the vermin in the alley, I strutted back to the car Mello was leaning out of. His lips curled in amusement as I lit up a cigarette and shoved the gun into my back pocket._

"_Move over," I grumbled as he continued looking up at me._

"_Crawl over," he commanded with a twinkle in his eye. _

_Didn't he care that I just killed a man?! That guy back there was dead, fucking _dead_ and here Mello was acting like it wasn't a big deal! Where was my Mello, the sweet innocent boy who would cry if he scraped his knee? Who are you?! Who the fuck are you?!_

_

* * *

_My eyes shot open as I jerked awake. My panting breath echoed in the room barely hiding the sound of my pounding heart. Swallowing painfully, I couldn't help but notice that my mouth was dry. Something beside me shifted making me jerk away in surprise. Looking down, I saw Mello snuggle further into my pillow and mumble something incoherent in his sleep.

Still panting I tried to get my damn mind to work. What the fuck was going on? Where was I? Pulling my legs up to my chest, I rested my head on my knees and just tried to calm down. I'm sure that everything would just make itself known if I slowed down. Breathe in through the nose, and out through the mouth. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

I'm not sure how long it was before I was calmed down enough to try to think straight again. That's right, Mello and I decided to face certain death and we slipped right through the cracks. We survived and handed Near the information he needed. Now we were living in a brand new home far away from Kira and Near. We were alone with no one but each other. I…I had a job, and Mello stayed home. When I came home last night, we…

Closing my eyes, I could feel his bare skin rubbing against my own naked thigh and a soft sigh slipped past my lips. That's right; when I came home we made love. I didn't drug him up, and he didn't protest. We just did it. Chuckling to myself, I wondered why I wasn't as stupidly happy as I should have been. Wasn't this exactly what I've been wanting for so long? To touch him, taste him, love him?

Reaching a shaky hand towards my wrinkled pants, I pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. I was just disoriented from the nightmare is all. Leaning against the headboard, I puffed on the small cancer stick for a few minutes, and even dared to look down at the sleeping face of my angel. His perfect nose nuzzled with my warm hip for a moment before he lay still on the pillow. My pillow.

"What the fuck's wrong with me?" I whispered around the stub of a cigarette.

Looking at the clock, the red numbers read 3:04 AM. Well, it couldn't hurt to have another cigarette. Six cigarettes later, Mello mumbled something again before looking up at me with bleary eyes. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and coughed a little, but I ignored him. Once he realized that I wasn't getting the hint, he spoke up.

"Matt, that stinks. Can you take it outside?"

"It's my fucking house, and I'll smoke in here if I want to," I snapped back venomously.

His eyes narrowed in anger and confusion as his sleep addled mind tried to decide whether he should make this an argument or not. At the same time, I was trying to figure out why I was being so mean. I knew that Mello hated the smell of my cigarettes, so it wasn't a surprise that he asked me to take it outside. Besides, I could smoke in the kitchen and he wouldn't bitch, so what was my deal?

"Just-"

"Shut up, Mello," I sighed as I leaned my head against the headboard. "It's too early for this. Sorry."

I stamped cigarette out on the bedside dresser alongside all the other ones. There were like little toy soldiers, all standing in a row as best as they could. But you see, some were missing legs and that's why they were leaning all funny like that. The though of my cigarettes struggling to stand straight brought out a small chuckle, and I couldn't help but pull Mello close to me. My cold fingers danced along his warm back and I pressed light kisses on the top of his head. I could feel the goose bumps rise along his flesh from being touched by someone as cold as me, but I didn't want to let go. Wrapping my legs around his, I pulled us closer together and relished in the heat that I wanted to suck away from him.

"I love you Mello," I whispered against that golden hair.

"Are you ok, Matt?" he asked softly, his broken arm gingerly resting on my side.

"Yeah, I'm perfectly fine."

"…Alright."

Breathing in deeply I could smell the citrus shampoo and conditioner that Mello exclusively used. He always said it made his hair softer and shinier, so I made sure to buy some for this house. Let's see, I think I'll buy him some clothes next. He likes black, but I think that some color would do him good. He's been too depressed lately, and maybe a change in wardrobe would help that. Smiling to myself, I couldn't help but get excited at the prospect of pampering my little darling. Mello deserved nothing less than the best.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, but it wasn't that easy for me. Maybe I was scared of the nightmares, but it just wasn't easy to fall back into the nice restful sleep that I really wanted. Instead I was left to stare at the blank ceiling for a few more hours. It almost felt like I went into a trance just lying there. There was nothing but me and that whiteness, that oblivion.

"_Don't you dare! Don't you fucking dare!"_

"_Dare what?"_

"_Don't show me that you're scared," he hissed._

_My hands were holding the wheel in a death grip and I could practically feel the police breathing down my neck, their guns pressed against the back of my head. The doom surrounding me was suffocating, was so cold._

"Matt?"

_That laugh, that horrid laugh echoed in my mind as I saw Light Yagami standing over my bleeding body._

"_Did you think you could stop a god, Mail?! A god who knows your name?"_

"Matt?!"

"_I don't want to die," I screeched in a panic. "I don't want to die!"_

_Looking down at me, that hellish smile curled on his flawless lips, his eyes narrowed in contempt. This was how he looked at his fallen enemies. I was only one of many and L, oh how he looked down at L. A sharp pain stabbed through my chest. I cried out in pain as I felt that heart attack strike me with the fury of a scorned lover. It blossomed through my chest and I cried. I cried like the weakling I was._

"Matt?! Fuck are you ok?!"

Realization dawned on me slowly, like syrup dripping down the edge of the bottle. Mello, he was shaking me and yelling some kind of nonsense. Was I even breathing? It took me a moment to realize that I wasn't.

"Fuck, shut up!" I yelled in a panic as I pushed him off of me. Taking deep breaths, I looked over at Mello to see him pale and breathing harshly. Those beautiful eyes were wide and he held a hand over his heart as if he felt the heart attack too.

"Matt-"

"Damn it, don't you understand when to fucking shut up!" I snapped as I grabbed his thin shoulders and gave a firm shake. "I'm fine, just fucking fine!"

Shoving him onto the bed, I hopped off the mattress and headed towards the bathroom. I could still feel that pain in my chest and it terrified me. Could Kira get me from beyond the grave? Splashing my face with cold water, I forced myself to calm down. That was just a dream, he couldn't hurt me now. Swallowing hard I looked up into the mirror and stared at my own reflection. Wait…was this real? What if Kira killing me was real and all this was hell?!

Punching the mirror, I winced more at the loud sound than the pain. Grabbing a piece of the broken glass, I dug it into my arm, right next to the faint cross left from my last self-mutilation. Hissing in pain, I pushed it deeper until I was absolutely certain that this was reality. Dropping the bloody shard of glass, I sat heavily on the toilet seat and sobbed. That happened over a month ago now, so why was I still freaking out over it? I hated feeling so worthless!

When I finally calmed down, I wrapped a towel around my arm and opened the door. I needed some food before I headed off to work. Just the idea of going somewhere else gave me a sense of relief. I didn't have to sit here waiting for those images to haunt me. Yeah, doing mind-numbing work sounded a hell of a lot better.

Seeing the empty room, I was startled when I heard a voice near my feet. "Please, Mattie," Mello begged.

Jumping away in surprise, I clenched my chest painfully and tried desperately to calm my breathing down. Fuck, I had just managed to calm myself down, and he had to fucking scare me!

"Just leave me alone!"

Tears rolled down his still bruised cheeks as I turned on my heel and went to the living room. Grabbing some spare clothes lying around, I bit back the pain and dressed quickly. Some gauze and tape held back the flow of blood from my arm, and my goggles hid my swollen, blood-shot eyes. The cold wind welcomed me with its open arms and I stomped off in an attempt to forget.

~_~_~_~_~_

"Matt, I need to go to church."

Looking up from my game I saw Mello leaning against the door frame. His red-rimmed eyes focused on the floor at his feet and his good arm was wrapped loosely around his waist. I was gone for two days before I came back. The shop owner of the repair place I worked for let me stay in his office, so I just sat there. But the nightmares haunted me even there. I wasn't safe anywhere.

Focusing back on my game, I shook my head. "You can't, your face is still bruised."

"It's Sunday, and I need to go to mass."

"You've already missed a bunch of masses, so just miss a few more until those marks go away." Damn, Samus was dying.

"Please, Matt. I _really _need to go." There was a near desperate sound to his voice and I didn't like that one bit. What was so important that he couldn't stay here?

"What, do you need to go suck off some priest so you can go to heaven?" I snapped back. "Just sit down. Give it another week or two, and then you can go."

"And what if you hit me again?" he hissed. "Then I won't be able to go again!"

"So? It's not like it's that big of a deal. It's all for show anyway."

"Mail Jeevas you know that's not true," he forced through clenched teeth. Now he was positively fuming. "Just because you don't bother to worry about your soul doesn't mean that I don't!"

"If that were true, you wouldn't let me fuck you," I shot back. "You can't just pick and choose what parts of religion you want to listen to, babe. It's all or you're better off not doing any of it."

"Why do you have to make this so fucking difficult?"

"Give. It. A. Week."

Biting his lip, he turned around and stomped off to our bedroom. The door slammed and I heard a few things break, but that didn't matter. I could always buy new stuff. But seriously, Samus was dying and I where was my damn bomb skill when I needed it?

Wait, I bought Mello some new clothes on my way back and forgot to give them to him. Maybe he would quit being so pissy if I gave them to him now? Nah, I doubted that, but at least he wouldn't have to walk around so uncomfortably. Of course, it wasn't my money that bought the clothes, but that didn't matter. Nope, the clothes were a courtesy from our most wonderful President of the United States. Yeah, I hacked his account every once in a while too.

"Mello, come out here for a sec!" I called out, fully expecting him to come out with a few things to throw my way. "I got you something!"

Although he didn't bring anything to throw at me, he came out still fuming. "What?" he snapped.

I motioned to the bags on the couch. "Those are yours. Try 'em on and let me know what you like so I can get you some more."

"…"

"Don't worry; I'll even buy you some fucking church clothes if you want me to."

"Piss off," he retorted as he struggled to carry the bags back into the bedroom. Guess he was feeling a little shy and didn't want to test out the clothes in front of me. Sheesh, it's not like I'm going to rape him in the middle of trying on some clothes. I had a little more class than that.

~_~_~_~_~_

"Hey, Mello, let's have sex."

His head shot up and stared at me in shock. This _was_ the first time I've ever gone about asking for it bluntly, but he didn't need to look so fucking surprised. It seemed like there was a hint of fear under that shock and that bothered me. When have I ever fucking forced him?! Never. I never made him do anything he didn't want to do, so he had no right to look at me that way.

"R-right now? Matt, I-"

"You really know how to piss me off, don't you?" I growled as I grabbed his good arm. It's been a few days since I've had any sexual activities and my patience had worn thin. Jerking off wasn't working anymore, and the way that those new pants hugged his legs was getting unbearable.

"Stop, I can't," he pleaded as he tried to pull away from my grip.

"I've never done anything to hurt you! What the fuck is your problem? You too busy jerking off to your sweet priest? Did he promise you nice things? Maybe it was a ticket to heaven if he had a piece of your ass."

"No! Matt, what are you talking about?! I don't even know the priest in this city!"

"Then why were you so freakin' eager to go to church the other day?!"

"I needed to pray!" he shouted back. "I need to pray!"

"You know what? You can just pray to your god on the bed!"

Dragging him to the bed, I threw him on. It didn't matter if I hurt him now, nothing mattered. I felt that pain in my chest, the phantom of that heart attack and it spurred me on. I needed to feel that oblivion, I needed it to wash away all the fucking pain and fears. It was kind of strange how everything that happened seemed to brush past me. It was like watching a movie as I forced Mello's clothes off and hit him as he tried to fight me off. He kicked and scratched, but I knew his weakness and attacked it like the prey I was.

A shriek of agony echoed in the room, and it wasn't the last of its kind. No, I flipped him over and shoved myself into him. Groaning, I couldn't help but feel the heat and the blood, the hot blood. Again and again, I pushed in deeper and deeper until it was physically impossible to go any deeper. He tore around my swollen flesh, but it didn't seem real. This was all just some weird video game I was playing. All I had to do was finish the level and then I could hold Mello and tell him how much I loved him.

Fuck, the sweat that rolled down his back and down my thighs, the blood that seeped down his trembling legs, the tears that blurred my vision. I could feel it now, just out of reach. That whiteness and complete nothingness that would swallow me for a few precious seconds. I wanted that far more than I wanted anything else.

* * *

"_You're not scared!"_

"_I'm n-not scared! Oh gods, Mello, not scared!"_

_

* * *

_"I'm not fucking scared!" I screamed as I thrusted into him one more time. The tension unfurled in my groin and my mouth parted for a soundless scream. There it was, only for me. Emptiness, sweet perfect emptiness.

This time, I let the oblivion carry me away. The blankness of my mind was far sweeter than the drugs I was pumping into my body and for that special moment I felt like I didn't have to keep trying. No fear, no pain, no memories or dreams. It was rest.

Time just slipped past. I couldn't tell if it had been seconds, minutes, or even hours. All I knew was that it felt like I was waking up from a dream. Taking a nice deep breath, I realized that my hands were clenched tightly around something and there were muffled sounds in my ears. Opening my eyes slowly, it took me another few seconds to register what it was my hands were clenching.

Mello. Oh gods, I was smothering him! My hands were wrapped tightly around his neck, shoving his face deep into the pillow. He was flailing uselessly against my iron hands and for a moment it seemed like even I couldn't stop myself. But I did, I forced myself to. Gaping in horror, I released his neck and his head shot up gasping and sobbing. What the hell was I doing?!

"Shit, babe, are you ok?" I cried as I pulled him up against my chest. I was no longer inside of him, but I could feel my seed spilling from his torn body. "I didn't mean to, I love you so much, gods, Mello!"

He continued to shake in my arms like a brittle leaf, and I just held him tightly. I didn't want to lose him, to let go, so I didn't. Kisses rained over his neck and cheek, but he refused to look at me. It was ok though, I did something wrong.

"Hey, shhhh, I'm really sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

* * *

"_Did you think you could fool a god who knows your names?"_

_

* * *

_

**So, this is the first time in this story that I've made use of those horizontal lines. What did you guys think? I actually really like this chapter and I'm proud of how clear Matt's decent into his suffering is. My only concern is that Mello might be a bit too docile, but the easiest way to explain that is that he's tired. He's had to keep up his strong facade and had to push so hard for so long. It's hard for anyone to keep that up, and in his condition it would be near impossible. He's suffering from the trauma just as much as Matt is, but in a different way. That'll become evident real soon!**

**So, thanks for all the reviews! Please review this round too and I'll try to keep up with the crazy updating pace.  
**


	6. Profession of Faith

**Thanks for all the lovely reviews! Also, another large thanks to those who viewed/favorited/alerted this story. I know this is coming out a little late, but at I made this long to apologize for that. Please enjoy the insanity, and as always, let me know what you guys think.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, Mustangs, or the Catholic Church**

What was wrong with me?

Staring at the bruised backside of my lover as he limped out of bed and into the bathroom, I could feel an unfamiliar feeling bubble up within me. Contempt. Leaning up on my elbow, I glanced at the calendar nailed into the naked wall. Damn, it was fucking Sunday again.

I had promised that Mello could go to mass today, but the thought of him going there alone made me uneasy. He could try to run away again, one of those perverted priests might bribe him into a blow job with a stupid promise of letting him into heaven, or any number of other bad scenarios could happen. Still, if I told him that he couldn't go, we'd probably get into another damn fight.

"Fuck," I muttered as I rolled out of my warm bed.

The cold air stung at my naked body, but the warm moist air from the bathroom took care of that. With a pained grunt, I peeled the bandage and gauze off my fresh wounds. Shooting Mello's rosary a nasty glare, I stepped into the steaming tub. Those turquoise eyes only spared me a brief glance before focusing on the tiles near the faucet. Snorting, I couldn't help but think that even with all those negative feelings brewing inside of me, I couldn't help but stare in appreciation at the body in front of me. Even the scars and other injuries couldn't diminish his beauty.

Rubbing his shoulders, I leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Let's have a quickie, Mels."

Tensing, he looked over his should at me with a scandalous expression. "Matt, I'm about to go to _church_."

"So? What, are you saving yourself for one of those horny priests?"

"Damn in Matt, I'm not going to sleep with a fucking priest! I never have and I never will!"

"Whatever," I grumbled as I pressed him against the tile. "Spread your legs."

After a moment of hesitation, he sighed and parted his creamy legs. My slick fingers teased the entrance for a moment before dipping into the warmth. I saw his fingers clench at the smooth tile and he let out a faint whimper. He still hadn't recovered from our most recent romp. With a frown, I pressed my hard member into the swollen flesh. It hadn't been hard to get turned on with his smooth body pressed against mine, but the bliss that had washed over me so often during sex didn't flood my veins this time.

The foreign burn of contempt continued to push forward in my mind, searing my insides even as I neared the oblivion that I desperately wanted. That white light had become something of an addiction for me in a time where nothing else was doing it for me. Drugs were worthless, mind-numbing work couldn't stop the night terrors, and talking to Mello or to myself was in vain. Only his body had given me the comfort I needed, that climax that eased my fevered mind if for only a moment. Even with all my selfishness, I didn't forget Mello's needs and my left hand slid forward to stroke on his warm cock. I pressed my forehead against the back of his neck and let the orgasm come quickly.

For a moment I was left disconcerted. There had been no mind-blowing nothingness, no moment of peace. There had been nothing but a tingling feeling run through my body and a few seconds of breathlessness.

"Matt," Mello gasped, "let go!" Still shocked, I released his member which had been clenched painfully by my bony hand. Turning around, Mello gave me a confused glance before hurriedly finishing his bath. Still confused and a bit pissed, I took a little longer to finish, but the fear of him leaving without me made me get my ass in gear.

By the time I finished drying and got dressed, I could see Mello making the last adjustments to his hair and clothes. Black pinstriped dress pants hung low on his hips and a shirt I bought him yesterday covered the bruises and stitches. Not sparing a glance at me, that ungrateful git shoved his gun in the front of his waistband and perched his fashionably oversized sunglasses on his straight nose, effectively covering his blackened eye. I rolled my eyes as he sauntered to the front door with all the swagger of the badass he used to be. Trailing behind him, I pulled on a black hoodie and stuffed my own gun in its pocket. New combat boots were pulled over my skinny jeans and aviator sunglasses that I hated so much shielded my own eyes.

Pausing behind Mello, I saw his trembling hand reaching out for his only jacket. Silver zippers decorated the shiny black leather as it rested on the coat stand, just waiting to be worn once again. My confusion turned to frustration as Mello seemed frozen on the spot. Why didn't he just grab the damn thing? Leaning against the wall in agitation, I tapped my foot against the hardwood floor and waited for him to grab it. Clenching his eyes shut, he jerked it off the hook and slipped the worn leather over his thin shoulders.

Once that was accomplished, we both headed out in my black and gold Mustang. Thankfully, we were back in the states where crazy-ass people weren't driving on the wrong side of the road. The drive to church was silent, with only the purr of my engine keeping my thoughts company. Mello fidgeted in the seat next to mine as he watched the peaceful suburbs shift to shadier neighborhoods. Graffiti painted the walls on every corner and drug dealers were a dime a dozen. Prostitutes waved down cars left and right, hobos pushed their stolen carts, and gangbangers strutted their stuff in the frigid cold.

"Are you really going to park this car here?" Mello asked as he took in the glorious surroundings.

"I've got to friends who'll keep it safe," I replied as I stuck a cigarette in my mouth.

"Hn." After a few seconds he spoke again. "You haven't been wearing stripes lately."

"And you practically cry if you see your damn leathers."

Cracking his knuckles, he kept his eyes on the scenery flying by. My hands clenched around the wheel, pissed that he would even bring that up. I never bothered him about the weird things he did after that day, and he should have just minded his own business. The truth was that I hadn't been able to wear anything similar to the clothes I was wearing the day I should have died. Anytime I try it's like I can see that guy getting all shot up. That was me, it should have been me, but here I was trying to forget all about it. Bastard.

Still, these familiar grey walls, they pushed out the worst in me. Home sweet fucking home. I had to be a glutton for pain coming back here. This was my life before Wammy's, but no one knew that except for me and a select few. Most of those few were dead now, only Roger lived. Still, I couldn't help but wonder…

Parking my car on the near empty curb, I motioned for Mello to stay put. Stepping out of the car, I glanced around and made my way to the apartment I was parked in front of. Before I reached the door, a man came out with a pistol in his hand. His dark skin was peppered with tattoos of all kinds and what hair he had was hidden beneath his du-rag. Outstretching my hand, he took it and proceeded to give me a black man's handshake complete with chest bumping.

"What you doing here, man?" he asked as he slapped my back.

"Since when did I need a fucking invitation to show up here, dog," I shot back, my native accent tearing through. "Damn, 'just need you to watch my fucking car for an hour' so."

Peeking around my shoulder at the car he let out a low whistle. "Shit man, you got a bitch?"

"What the hell? You think I don't need one? I'm a man, ass, and I got me plenty of bitches."

"That'd be a pretty flat-chested one, don't ya think?" he chuckled. "I like big tits on my hoes. But then, maybe you ain't got the skills to get one a them."

I shoved at him lightly and shook my head. "Hell, she don't need no big tits. Spreads her legs just fine and screams like the whore she is. I pick pussy over tits any day, you know what I mean? Fuck, dudes'll be having tits soon."

"Aw man, that's sick," he jested shoving me back. "Can't stand none of that. Fucking homos'll get a nice gift from me if they pass by," he said gesturing to his gun. "You know what I'm sayin', man?"

"Call me up and we'll both do 'em in good."

After a few more minutes of friendly bantering, I went back and pulled Mello out of the car. "Just go with it," I whispered in his ear. "Call me Mac if you have to say something." Even through the sunglasses I could tell that he was glaring at me, but as soon as my extremely tall and well-built friend showed up, Mello settled easily into his role. "This here's Mina from Germany. Mina, say hi to my man Jungle Robba."

Tossing back his golden hair, Mello checked him out and added a little extra by running his tongue over his lower lip. "Hello, Robba," he greeted with a thick German accent and a slightly higher pitch. "This country is good, no?"

"Hell yeah, it is," he replied as he let his own eyes wander. The familiar feeling of wanting to shove pencils into the person's eyes for mentally undressing my lover bubbled up in my chest but I shoved it down.

"Come on, quit checkin' her out, fucker!" I complained with a playful shove. "You got yo own hoes to take care of. Just take care of the car, 'kay?"

"Sure thing, Mac," he said with a wink to Mello. I grabbed his recuperating arm and dragged him away from my acquaintance before Robba got a chance to see that Mello was anything but a stupid European chick. As a matter of fact, he was an I'll-kick-your-ass European dude.

We walked together in silence for another ten minutes until the familiar dark stone face of an old Catholic church made itself known. People were filing in quietly, respectfully, through the thick oak doors while the father shook hands and spoke kind words to his idiotic flock of believers. Mello pulled his arm away from mine and shook hands with the old fart.

"Hi, mate," he said quietly with an Australian accent. "Been visitin' around here parts, an' wanted to make right with God."

"Welcome to this flock," the old man said with a well-practiced smile. "I hope you will stay for a while."

"Sure thing," Mello replied with a smile. I merely rolled my eyes and shook the guy's hand.

"Welcome, sir," he greeted, those grey eyes flickering up to my green tinted hair.

"G'day, mate," I replied in a sad attempt at following along with Mello's Australian cover. I really hated how he was so good at faking accents.

Not wanting to lose Mello in the small crowd, I brushed off anything else the geezer was going to say and found my place beside my blond. He found us some seats in the middle of the room and we sat there for a while. Looking around the interior of the musty old chapel, I couldn't help but frown at how familiar it looked. I could have sworn that I had been here before but that idea was ridiculous. I hated churches; they were all a waste of time and money. Perverted old men made use of young bodies to sate their wicked desires, and the children were left to pray and tend to their broken bodies.

"I didn't know you knew where a church was around here," Mello whispered in my ear. "Thanks."

"Wait, didn't you tell me where this place was?" I asked in confusion. Surely I didn't know where the heck a fucking Catholic church was. I mean, it was my home town and stuff, but…

"No, I didn't know where one was," he replied as he adjusted his sunglasses. "Hey, I'll be back. I need to make my confessions before the mass starts."

I didn't want to let him go by himself into that wicked box, but there was nothing I could do. No one was allowed but the priest and the confessor in that booth and even if I wanted to sit by the door and wait, it would make too much of a scene in front of all these people. A scene was something that me and Mello couldn't afford. We needed to fade into the background and remain unidentifiable. Still, that didn't make me feel any better about it.

Seriously though, what did he need to confess about? He hadn't murdered anyone or committed any kind of sin lately. Well, if you take out the cursing, the fucking, and the attempted murder of me several times. Still, his god would surely overlook all that, right? He did all his little prayers, and he clung to that stupid rosary all the time. What really pisses me off is when he does his prayers during sex, like he needs the strength to deal with me, a demon. Yeah, he really does piss me off a lot.

An old lady took her seat next to me as I waited anxiously for Mello to get out of confession. She also glanced at my hair which made me consider dying it another color. I liked being a little original but at the cost of our obscurity, it wasn't worth that much. I didn't want to dye my hair black or anything emo like that, but definitely something that didn't stick out so much at my green tint.

"Hello young man," she greeted with a thin wrinkled outstretched hand. Deciding that I couldn't ignore a nosy old hag, I just shook her hand and turned my attention back to the booth. She seemed to have other ideas. "Are you new here?"

Yeah, punching her would give me some unwanted attention. "Yeah, jus' got in lately, miss," I replied, doing my darnest to imitate that crocodile hunter guy.

"Oh, that's nice. Where'd you come from?"

Like my accent didn't tell her that much. "Sydney in Australia."

"Are you with anyone?"

Sigh of eternal patience. "Yeah, my mate is in the little booth for confession."

"Oh how nice. Is she pretty?"

"My mate, miss, is a guy. Been buds for the past fifteen years."

"Oh, a friend."

"Yeah."

"Don't you need to go to confession too?" she asked with another glance at my hair. Fucking shit, did I have a sign painted to my chest saying that I was a non-believing sinner?

"Nope, been a good lad this week."

"When you get to be my age," she started with a large toothless smile, "there's not much temptation left. Just got to watch for that gossipin'."

I gave her a pleasantly fake laugh as I looked back to the booth. Why wasn't he done yet? He really didn't have that long of a list to pray for! What, did he give the fucking priest his whole life story? Why wasn't he out yet?! The idea of him sucking off that priest floated around in my head again making me grit my teeth in anger. Just because I had issues with blowing priests didn't mean he did. He promised that he wouldn't do something like that and he always kept his promises.

* * *

"_I'll never leave you, Matt. Never ever."_

_

* * *

_So he kept most of his promises. What if this was one of them that he wasn't keeping? What if he was pleasuring that bastard instead of me?! The pressure was building to near unbearable levels. A headache pulsed behind my eyes making this painful experience almost too much to handle anymore. I wanted to be back home, under the covers asleep and at peace. Why did I have to submit and let him come here?

"Scoot over, Matt," a soft voice grumbled as a familiar body tried to squeeze between me and the armrest. Looking up in surprise, I saw Mello trying to wedge between my body and the wood. I scooted over and gave him a scrutinizing glare. There were no strange fluids on his clothing, no signs of wiping off semen, and his hair was impeccable. The only thing unusual was the slightly red streaks on his face.

"Were you crying?" I asked in confusion as he tried to adjust his glasses.

"No," he snapped back defensively. "Drop it."

Just as I was about to snap back at him, everyone stood up and began singing some song. Mello grabbed my arm and forced me to stand up along with him and he sang along without having to use the song books. I just stood there in silence and watched as the priest walked in with the alter boys carrying a cross, the mass book, and candles. I clenched my hands into fists as I glared at that solemn face of the "father".

After a prayer, everyone sat down and listened as the priest read some damn scriptures. Looking to the side, I saw that Mello was totally enraptured and it just made me even more pissed off. What was he hearing that I wasn't? It was just some boring shit that some dead people wrote. On top of that, those dead people took the liberty of telling everyone else on the planet how they ought to live! I'd be damned before letting some person I don't even know tell me what to do. For that matter, I don't even let people I do know tell me what to do. So there.

Still, Mello's obvious dedication was making me sick. Maybe this'll be the last time we come to church. He can do all his fucking praying at home while I screw his ass. Nodding to myself in agreement, I stared forward at the "father" reading with such emotion. Suddenly, everyone was standing up again and singing another song. Mello had to haul my ass up again and he shot me an annoyed look. I'm not going to make this easy for him.

My eyes wandered as usual, and then something unusual caught my glance. Those eyes, those filthy perverted eyes of the priest glanced over the backside of the shorter of the alter boys. Anger and disgust shot through my veins with such intensity that I was left dizzy. Suddenly, I was sitting down again and Mello was hissing in my ear. "What the fuck's wrong with you?"

"Piss off," I replied a little louder than necessary, earning a few glances and making my dearest lover turn two shades of red.

Turning my flaming eyes at that priest, I began studying his sagely visage. There was a monster in there and I just knew it. Watching his wrinkled mouth forming words to his flock, realization began to dawn on me. I knew who that fucker was.

* * *

"_You need God's mercy far more than any normal person does."_

"_But why, Father?"_

"_You father's an evil man and your mother is a wretched soul. You were born of two evils, Mail, and if you don't work extra hard, you can't make it to heaven._

"_B-but (sniff) I don't w-wanna go to Hell…"_

"_I don't want you to go to Hell either, my child. Here, because I care so much for you, I'll give you some extra help. If you perform certain duties for the priests on earth, you will be awarded in heaven."_

"_R-really?"_

"_Son, I _never_ lie."_

"_I-I'll help any way I can, Father…"_

_

* * *

_I felt sick. As a matter of fact, I felt like I was about to spew all over the old guy in front of me. Pinching my nose, I leaned forward and took deep controlled breath. I could feel Mello fidgeting at my side, debating whether he should see if I was ok or pay attention to the sermon. The little old lady at my side didn't seem to have that much of a problem deciding.

"Are you ok?" she whispered loudly, patting my back in a grandmotherly way.

My eyes were watered up and I didn't trust my voice to be steady, so I just settled for nodding. She continued to pat my back and offered me an old dirty mint from her purse. Mello grabbed it for me and finally graced me with his concern.

"Mattie, do you need to get out of here?" he whispered in my ear.

I thought about nodding and getting the fuck away from this hell-hole, but an idea struck me. "N-no, I'm fine. Let's just finish this, 'kay?"

Brushing my hair back a little he nodded and patted my elbow before turning his attention to that child-raping faggot. The little sermon went by quickly and soon we were all reciting the Profession of Faith.

"_We believe in God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and all that is seen and unseen."_

My mouth was dry.

"_We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, one Being with the Father…"_

Rational thought was the last thing on my mind as empty words of faith spilled from my chapped lips.

"_We look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. Amen."_

~_~_~_~_~_

As soon as the services were over, I headed straight to the confession booth. Mello tried to question me, but I just pushed him away and made a bee-line for that damnable box. The priest saw me and made his way into his side. Tch, always ready to hear the words of a fallen brother. As I closed the little door behind me, I got comfortable on the hard wooden bench that was provided. The sound of people talking was nearly deafening and that brought a contented smile to my lips.

"Speak, my son," the priest commanded once he was all situated.

Leaning my head back, I let the well-practiced words slip out. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It's been sixteen years since my last confession."

"Sixteen years?" he asked in astonishment.

"Yes. I have a confession for you Father, something that's been weighing on my mind."

"Speak."

As I spoke, I gently pulled out the gun from my hoodie and screwed on the silencer I always carry in my back pocket. "Years ago, I was violated by a man, Father. He sexually abused me, but I was too scared to go against him."

"What a horrid creature," the man murmured.

"Oh yes, Father. He promised me many things, but in the end, I got nothing but pain. Years later, I'm living happily with my boyfriend, and I see him again!"

"What did you do?" he asked. "God will forgive the harsh words and reckless actions of any man. Also, he will damn such a sinful man to the fiery depths of hell. Now pray, tell me what you did."

"Please, come a little closer to the screen," I whispered. "I'm afraid that the others might hear of my sinful deeds." That man was too engrossed to even realize that I wasn't speaking with my Australian accent. Instead, he leaned his head against the grate. I pressed my lips against the metal that separated us and pressed the nozzle of the gun against it too. "I…murdered him."

The trigger was pulled and warm liquid splattered on my face. I felt the chuckle force its way through my chest as I opened my eyes and watched his body twitching. I couldn't have him living and identifying me later, so pulling that weak grate from the wall, I aimed two more shots and finished the job. My personal job. Still chuckling, I dragged my tongue over my upper lip, tasting the filthy blood that dripped down.

Wiping my face on my hoodie, I was pleased to see that the black material did a decent job of hiding the blood. It wouldn't hold up to close scrutiny though, so I needed to get out quickly. Resisting the urge to spit on the corpse, since that would only provide the police with my DNA, I eased out of the booth. I made sure that no one noticed my departure and I grabbed Mello's arm and headed out of the church.

"What the heck's going on?" Mello asked as soon as we were half-way to the car. "First you head off to the confession and then you tear out of there like hell's hounds are at your heels! If you're just embarrassed about confessing, then-"

Anything he was thinking about saying was immediately lost as I pulled my hand away from his and flashed the bloody appendages in front of him. His mouth dropped open as he noticed the blood on my hoodie and some still clinging to the tips of my hair. Absolute horror and confusion was etched on his face as I tugged him along to the car.

Jungle Robba was sitting on the hood of my Mustang and smoking a cigarette. When he saw us coming, he hopped off and gave me a wide grin. "How'd it go, fucker?"

"Eh, it was fine, ya know," I replied, motioning for Mello to get in the car. "I got a job call though, and I need to run off. I'll catch up with ya later, man."

Nodding, he blew a kiss to Mello before waving us off. Once back on the road, I just focused on getting us home without anyone tailing us. Mello remained dumbfounded for a good fifteen minutes of evasive maneuvers until he finally went off on me.

"What the hell where you thinking!" he screeched at me as we sat at a stoplight. "You killed a motherfucking priest of God!" Pausing in newfound horror, he proceeded to make the sign of the cross and mumble some gibberish in Latin. "Hell, Mattie, a priest, a _priest_!"

"I know what's a priest!" I screamed back as I clenched the wheel. "Do you really think that I would have killed him without a good reason?"

"What, did he refuse to pray for you?" Mello sneered in annoyance.

"It's none of your damn business," I snarled. "I don't need your permission to kill."

"I'm going to hell," he mumbled dejectedly as he leaned back. "There's no way out, I'm so going to hell."

"Shut the fuck up," I hissed as I pulled into our driveway.

I could never admit to him why I killed that guy. It was something that I had blocked out of my memories for a long time, and it was something that I wasn't proud of. For years, I sucked off that guy and did other things with him just to get my ticket to heaven, but it was all a lie. A lie that I was going to make sure he never told again. Still, I felt that fear fluttering against my ribs, the same fear that would haunt me every time I walked into his office. Even though he was dead, I didn't feel at peace.

Just as Mello was about to step out of the car, I grabbed his wrist. Looking down at the steering wheel in shame, I tugged him closer to me. "Kiss me, Mels," I asked quietly as the tears blurred my vision. He was my only god, the only one who had ever made that pain go away. Like a true god he gave and he took away, but at least for now he was still with me. A sigh of annoyance brushed against my ear before I felt that supernatural kiss against my lips. Salty tears slipped past my lidded eyes and down between our lips, but that was the least of my concerns. Caressing his lips and feeling those fingers in my hair, I felt the peace again.

That was the peace that would be torn away painfully.

**Author's Notes: -wicked grin- I hope you all enjoyed that! Can you guys tell that something is up? -dooooom- Also, I think it is important to note that I do not believe that all Catholic priests are pedophiles or even homosexuals. That's just how it worked out in this story. So please review and I'll try to update this soon.**


	7. Ripples

**This chapter was a product of listening to nothing but Within Temptation. Still, I think it turned out pretty good! Thanks go out to all who read/reviewed/favorited/alerted. There are probably only two chapters left before this concludes. Maybe. Yeah, two or three. Anyway, please enjoy the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or its characters.**

**

* * *

**It was all over the news. Papers, magazines, radio, the television. Everywhere.

"_This just in, Father Daniel's body was obviously shot three times in the head. Police have confirmed that there was no way that this was an accident. An innocent leader of the church has been murdered in cold blood. If you know anything about this killing, please call…"_

"_Father Daniel was a good community man. He had saved hundreds of people starvation by inviting them into his own home for a fresh meal and a place to stay the night…"_

"_Hundreds of church members are here in front of the church making a memorial to the good priest known around as Father Daniel. His legacy…"_

It was sickening, absolutely disgusting. That man's face mocked me from every media source as if his twisted soul was trying to get revenge on me, trying to get me to break down. Well guess what, fucker? I wasn't going to go down that easy. Tch, did he think that was the first time I've murdered someone in cold blood? Wrong. Bloody wrong.

"What are you doing?" Mello asked tiredly from the door.

I was leaning over the bathroom sink, washing my hair and getting ready to dye it with a color I bought yesterday. The green tint was too much right now and it could possibly identify me.

"You're a genius, jackass, figure it out."

Sighing as if I was a source of endless trials, he leaned against the doorframe and continued to stare at me.

"You're dying your hair color a…a 'raging red'."

"Fuck, you're just too smart, Mels," I sneered before grabbing a towel and drying my hair. "Don't know how you managed to figure that out."

"Well," he began with a very familiar annoyed tone, "I still haven't figured out what that priest could have possibly said to piss you off that much. You killed him, Mattie, in a room full of witnesses!"

"No one saw me do it," I hissed as I angrily rubbed my hair dry.

"But plenty of people could have seen you go in there, and then come out! Fuck, Mattie, why don't you just tell me what happened?! I'm not going to turn you in!"

"It's none of your motherfucking business! I don't need your permission or even your approval to kill anyone I want!"

"But…he was a _priest_, a spokesman of God," Mello begged. "What would make you want to kill an innocent-"

"Don't fucking give me that!" I interrupted hatefully. That man wasn't innocent, I didn't care if he was a spokesman of the so-called "God" or not. He could have been Buddha for all I knew, and I would have still shot that fucker in the head. "He's just a man, a goddamn _man_, and it's not like you've never killed anyone innocent before!"

He winced from that, but didn't back down. Mello was known for being a stubborn guy and even intentional jabs at his tender spots wasn't enough to put him down. "He was not just a man, no matter what you may think! He is a man of God!"

"That man was nothing but a perverted priest who fucks the alter boys and then takes his stupid followers' money! That's all they are!"

Throwing his hands up in frustration, Mello said something that made my blood freeze. "Fuck, Mattie, you're so obsessed with priests being pedophiles! It's not like you were raped by one!"

I didn't see it, didn't feel it, didn't even realize what I had done until I saw Mello sprawled on the floor and felt the pounding in my fist from where it had connected with his jaw. Those shocked turquoise eyes looked up at me before a sickening realization dawned on him. No, no, no! I didn't want him to know, to pity me!

"N-no, I wasn't!" I screamed pathetically, but I was afraid it was too late. Mello was an extremely fast learner especially if physical pain was involved. But no, I was stupid. I took that bullshit given by the man for years without saying a word and I even had the nerve to believe that I was going to heaven for doing it.

"Matt, oh Mattie," he whispered as he watched me struggle to keep my composure. "I didn't mean-"

"Shut up. Just fucking shut up." I was too tired for this, too tired of fighting. Work was in a few hours and I needed to finish my hair.

~_~_~_~_~_

The cold winter air stung at my exposed flesh as I walked through the streets to my job. It was a small computer pawn/repair shop where my job was to strip information off the machines for anything valuable before putting it up for sale. There were plenty of idiot people who thought that pressing the "empty trash" option was enough to get rid of their personal information, so my job was never done.

As soon as I walked in, Cam, the owner, greeted me. "Hey man! Whoa, nice hair…"

My urge to tell him to piss off almost won, but I steeled my self-control before I could say anything that would make me lose my job. "The girlfriend was sick of the last color," I replied cheerily, hoping that face didn't betray my true feelings.

"Yeah, I know how that is," he sympathized. "Mine made me cut my hair. Used to be down to my waist."

The mental image was pretty disturbing, so I decided to just hurry myself to my newest job. "So this baby needs to be stripped?"

"Oh, that? Yeah. Hey! Have you heard about that priest who got murdered a few days ago? That's not too far from here! Some police showed up here asking around."

My blood froze and I began to panic. What did this idiot tell them about me?! What if the police were already at the house?!

"What did you say?" I choked out as I slipped behind some computers and began pulling out my gun.

"Oh, nothing really!" he chuckled. "They just asked if I knew anyone who went to the church, and I said, 'No, my only worker Mac's an atheist through and through.' Hey, but isn't your girl-"

He didn't even get to finish that sentence when my bullet silenced him. Panting, I looked down at the shaking gun. What the hell had I just done?! Fuck, this was another body! With the same bullet!

"Shit!" I hissed as I looked around the shop. There was no one inside yet, but soon enough there would be. This was bad, really bad! Why did I have to shoot him? He didn't say anything! But…no, I needed to cut off any ties. I needed to start fresh.

First though, I needed to get my ass out of this. Grabbing my tool kit, I headed to the body and worked quickly. Cutting meaningless messages into his skin with my left hand was the first measure. It would keep the police busy for a while and being ambidextrous, I knew that they would at least guess someone left-handed had done this. It didn't look like a right-hander attempting to write with his left hand, no it was just right. Next, I began stabbing his body with a screwdriver to reinforce the idea that this was a calculated murder of someone who had a personal issue with Cam. Next, I needed to get rid of the bullet, so I hurried for the nearest computer tower. Taking a deep calming breath and one last glance around, I swung the heavy thing into the man's skull. A crunching sound echoed in the small room, but the blow hadn't been enough. Hauling the machine up with my thin arms, I swung again and again. Over and over, I brought the computer down until his head was nothing more than a mush of bones and flesh. The smell was sickening, but I needed to press on. Dropping the tower next to the body, I leaned over and fished through the brain matter and other flesh until I found my bullet.

The sound of a car door shutting made me dive behind a shelf and pull out my gun again. I couldn't keep my breathing anything short of erratic and with a string of curses I realized that I was covered in the man's blood. Shit, it was just one thing wrong after another! Peeking around some of the computers, I saw some hooker waving to a customer. He drove off and she walked away. Good, I had time to finish things up.

Running to the washroom, I doused my boots in water to clean the blood from the bottom of them. Once that was done, I began to throw down all our monitors. Sparks flew and glass shattered, but it took a few more minutes before a decent fire got started. The flames would eat away some of the evidence, and the water from the fire fighters putting it out would wipe away even more. Panting, I ran out through the back. I was still covered in blood since I couldn't risk washing anything off but my shoes. I couldn't let them have any of my DNA, but I needed to get the hell out of here without gaining attention.

My only options was running through the alleys and taking the long way around the back of the neighborhood I was living in. There could be no more witnesses or I'd have to kill again, only leaving the police with more bodies and more information against me. I had to be careful or it was over.

Just stepping into an alley was enough to make me sick. The smells, the trapped feeling, it was just like that day. I was going to die, me and Mello. I had been so scared, just waiting for Kira to get me back. It should have been me who had died, shot over a hundred times. But no, I _had_ to cheat Death, I had to offer up a scapegoat. Now look what it got me.

Sinking down against a dirty wall, my smoker's lungs burned badly, leaving me coughing and wheezing. I was near the end of the slums and soon I would have to sneak around through open space until I got to the suburbs where I lived. In the distance of a few miles I would be exposed to cars, pedestrians, police officers, and all other manners of being identified. It wouldn't be hard considering that I was covered in another man's blood. Still, I had no other choice. Stealing a car near the crime scene was expected and I couldn't do that. No, I really did have to make a run for it. Police sirens echoed loudly and soon the fire trucks and ambulances followed.

"_Don't show me that you're scared."_

"No, I won't," I gasped as I rocked myself. I could taste the tears and blood and even the tar that had built up in my lungs.

"_Don't. Fucking. Show. Me."_

"I won't, I swear!"

"_You're not scared! I am not scared!"_

"Gods, Mello! You're not scared!" I sobbed as I held my knees even tighter. "I'm not scared!"

"…_Mail."_

Whispered so sweetly, so softly. It was like a soothing balm over my fevered skin. "We need to…get…going," I mumbled as I struggled to gain control of my breathing. "We need…to…finish this."

Forcing my exhausted limbs to push even further, I stood up. I needed to get out of here, get far away. Mello, that's where I needed to go. Shoving my sunglasses further up my nose, I looked around before tearing off. One foot in front of the other, just pushing and pushing. I kept as far away from the road as I could and ran. Oxygen wasn't a concern, just sheer will power. Stumbling and abused ankles were nothing. There was nothing but getting to him, to Mello.

Fear of losing him because of my own stupidity made me run even faster. My body knew what to do, and instinctively I snuck around through the suburbs, getting into the back alleys. The final obstacle, my back fence was hurdled with much difficulty and a landed with a loud thud. Something cracked somewhere in my body, but it was too hard to figure out. Having finally stopped moving, I couldn't find the physical strength to do anything. Even breathing didn't seem possible. Everything was spinning around as my brain tried to do damage control, but the lack of oxygen from my worn lungs was making that impossible. Everything was struggling, and I just laid there.

Darkness covered my body and I thought I caught a glimmer of gold before I lost consciousness.

~_~_~_~_~_

Someone was whispering not far away and I found it hard to open my eyes and see who it was. Instead I just rested against the soft covers and listened.

"Shit, holy fucking shit!"

"The police believe that this was a murder and arson. The owner, Cameron Jackson was a salesman of used computers and had only one worker that has not been identified yet. It seems that the fire damaged many things and the police have not shared that information with us. Still, this homicide seems to have been personal. It's also interesting to note that this has taken place three days since the murder of Father Daniel and also three blocks away from the church he had been found dead in."

"Mattie, shit, what's going on?! Ok, what are we going to do? We have to get out of here, but-"

I couldn't take it anymore. "Mello, get in here," I commanded in a raspy voice. Rolling over, I rubbed my eyes and forced them open.

"Matt, you're awake," he sighed in relief. "What the fuck is going on?!"

Looking up at my angel, I could see that he was flabbergasted. His beautiful eyes were wide and his hands were moving around nervously. He was not used to being out of control, of not being the one to do the stupid shit and then cry for help. Well, I didn't plan on crying for help. I knew exactly what we needed to do.

"You need to get us a van," I stated flatly as I pulled myself out of bed. I noticed that I had been washed and that my clothes were gone. They were probably burned too. "We're leaving here as soon as I get rid of the evidence that we were here."

Wringing his hands, he began to pray as he turned on his heel.

"Wait," I warned as I grabbed his wrist. Looking back at me, he seemed lost. "If you leave me, I'll kill you," I hissed. This was definitely not the time to abandon me and if he did, to hell with being caught. I would hunt his ass down until I could snap that neck with my own bare hands. "I'm dead serious, Mels, I will _kill_ you."

Shoving him away, I pulled on a pair of pants that had been set on the bed and I proceeded to prepare for our move. The gallons of bleach that I had been storing were pulled out along with my hair net, gloves, and face mask. Each room was emptied of our personal things such as clothes, brushes, or anything else that would have our DNA on them. Everything else, like the furniture, stayed put and I began the cleaning process. Everything was vacuumed, and then all the smooth surfaces were bleached. Carpet was steam cleaned with a soft bleach product, air vents were scrubbed, windows were wiped, curtains were steamed. The kitchen was cleaned out of food but I left the dishes. I just cleaned them all with bleach.

By the time I was finished with the bedrooms, the halls, and the kitchen, Mello walked back in. He looked around at the bags with our stuff and the necessary food that would be packed up in the van.

"I'll pack up," he sighed.

When I didn't reply, he just did the work. As soon as all our junk was cleared, I finished off the cleaning. All of the trash bags full of the cleaning supplies and the trash from cleaning up were shoved into the van as well so that we could dump it in another city. Looking around the house, I couldn't help but feel sad. I had spent so much time finding a place where me and Mello would be able to settle down and live happily, and now this.

"It never ends, does it?" I asked myself softly.

"Usually it doesn't," Mello replied as he walked in. "For us, it never will."

Anger clawed at my chest, pounding through my mind. How could Mello, the reckless bastard, the confident bitch, how could _he_ give in so easily? What made fate so damn strong that he would be willing to roll over to its whims?!

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I screamed at him, shoving him against the door. "We can't give up, never! Don't tell me you're scared!"

"I am scared!" he screamed back with tears threatening to fall. Those words struck me harder than anything he had ever hit me with before. Mello was scared, my Mello, my god, was scared.

"I refuse to believe that," I hissed angrily. "And you can't believe that either!"

Dragging him to the van, I threw him in the back where no one would see him and identify him. Handcuffing him to the back door, I made sure that he had no chance to escape. Hate boiled within me, that this weak creature dared to pretend he was Mello. This thing couldn't be the one I loved, the one that I adored. No, he was just an imitator. Soon enough Mello would be back. When he was back, everything would work out. It would all be ok. For now though, I just had to go.

The van started up smoothly, and I backed out of the garage with practiced ease. We were running again, but this time things were different. Pulling my bag to the front, I grabbed a pack of cigarettes and my lighter.

~_~_~_~_~_

Everything was racing past, blurring together. I couldn't remember if it had been days or weeks since we headed off on the road. All I did was drive and fill the van with gas. I didn't eat, but maybe I drank. It didn't matter. Driving did.

I vaguely realized that there were empty morphine needles on the seat beside me, and that my ashtray had been overflowing for a while now.

Lights were flashing, and I drove away, I hated those lights. Signs sped by, but I couldn't read them.

I hated him, I realized as I threw down another cigarette I light on the wrong end. They said that the opposite of love wasn't hate, but indifference. That's how I knew that I still loved him too. And you can't smoke a cigarette if you light the filter.

My body wanted rest.

Push.

The human body can subject itself to only so much suffering before it decides to pull the plug. I wasn't completely sure what had happened, but I realized that we weren't on the road anymore. Blood was running down my face and I felt cold water against my thighs. I tried to understand what I was seeing, but the meaning just slipped past me. Someone was screaming, but the words just ran together like paint. Like Linda's pain when I threw the water balloon at it. Mello told me to, and I did it.

Wow, Mello told me to do a lot of things and I always did it. When he told me get on my knees and blow him like the bitch I was, I did. When he told me to put down the game and play with him I did. When he told me to eat his veggies I did. I did, I did, I did. I murdered. I sold drugs. Sometimes he didn't tell me, but I did it anyway.

Smoking, he always hated smoking.

Holding my eyes open was too hard. Besides, none of it made sense. Still, resting for just a moment sounded like a good idea. I wish that I wasn't so cold and so wet, but I could suck it up. The water lapped at my bloody face, but I slipped off to a better place. A place where I didn't have to run away.

* * *

"_Mattie!"_

"_Hey, Mels, what's up?" I asked as I sat on the itchy grass behind the large house._

"_Found you," he stated so proudly._

"_Uh, I wasn't hiding."_

"_Yes you were!" he pouted before pouncing on me. _

_I could have dodged, but I didn't want to. I wanted to feel that soft hair stroke my cheeks, that sweet chocolate breath brush over my own wanting lips. I wanted to look up into those brilliant eyes and drown in them._

"_Kiss me?" I dared to ask softly._

_Giggling, Mello gave my hot mouth a quick peck. It was always like this for him, a game of will-I-get-caught? Still, it made me happy to be this close. Tilting his head to the side Mello looked down._

"_Want another?" he asked curiously and I nodded eagerly._

_With another breathtaking smile he leaned down again and this time, he didn't pull away. _

_

* * *

_**Author's Notes: Alright, so don't be bothered by the weird formatting, especially near the ending. I did that more for a sense of disjointed thought, of confusion. It's not fanfic's fault (for the first time). :) So? What do you guys think?! Any guesses as to what's happening or what will be the end? Oh, I was also dying to give Matt a reason to have redish hair. I LOVE how the fanart had him with red hair before the anime showed up and screwed that idea up. Still, in my mind the red looks way better than the weird brunette/greenish hair. Oh well. **

**Please review and let me know how you felt about this chapter! Also, feel free to point out spelling errors or give some constructive criticism. (note: most grammatical errors on my part are on purpose, but if you really feel the need, go ahead and point that out too.)**


	8. Mello

**This chapter is dedicated to Kyoko Keehl and ToNightIamgone for their insane amount of reviews. Thank you all so much! Now, fyi, this chapter will be in Mello's POV. As usual, if there are inconsistencies with his thought process that was intentional. I hope that you will all enjoy this!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note, Playstation, or Mountain Dew**

Sinner. That's what I am.

Looking up into Matt's tortured face, I could feel the weight of every mistake, every sin, pressing against my stunted heart. His forehead was wrinkled and his delicate eyelids were scrunched up as he suffered through another unpleasant dream. Was he still dreaming about death? Or maybe he was dreaming about before that, back when he sold his innocence to appease my cold ruthless being. Such a sinner as I.

"I'm so sorry, Mattie," I whispered as I ran my fingers over his soft lips. He grunted a little and pulled me closer to his bare chest. It hurts to be so close to someone you love and yet so very far.

None of this was his fault; I realized that quite soon. There were reasons for our madness, but mine were self-inflicted whereas his were not. They were forced upon him. Me, my fault. It was only me who had torn up what hope he had who had stripped him of all he was. For what? What good did it do, except keep him just a little closer for a little longer? Selfishness. My greed created the person now holding me in his arms, and that thought alone made me want to die. I did it to him.

Matt's breathing quickened a little, a sure sign that he was waking up. Out of habit, more than conscious thought, my eyes slid shut and my breathing continued its slow, even pace. The sheets rustled as he looked around to make sure that everything was in its place, that everything was still ok. Finally, I felt his eyes rest on my, on my bruised and naked body. It had been another night of rough sex.

Once he was certain I was sleeping, Matt pulled away from me and headed for the bathroom. The sound of the shower running droned against my eardrums and I softly turned to face the bathroom door. Some steam was seeping from the crack in the door, floating up to the ceiling.

I didn't really sleep anymore. There was no controlling the horrid night terrors or the twisted dreams, and I was too tired to take that anymore. Drugs were never really my thing either, made me too weak and pathetic. Drinking alcohol would have been nice, but Matt never kept a drop of that stuff in the house. It probably reminded him too much of the Mafia. Who could blame him? Not me, not the one who would lash out at him in a drunken rage while he took it with a smile. With a fucking smile.

A gasp of pain escaped from my tightened throat as I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. He hadn't been gentle in a long time, and my exhausted body didn't have the energy to mend itself. Pain was good though; it was a penance that I was willing to pay. I debated with myself as I watched the bathroom door. If I went in and showered with Matt, he would want sex. On the other hand, if I didn't he would probably bitch and moan that I wasn't appreciative enough. The monster in me wanted to lash out, to show Matt exactly what his place was, but I shoved that down. I created the monster to survive, to thrive in the underworld, but it had no place here.

* * *

"_You fucking owe me!"_

* * *

Yes, I did.

~_~_~_~_~_

Matt called in sick for work today before heading out to buy some stuff. Although I tried hard, this morning didn't go as well as I hoped. Mello continued breaking through before I could stop him and another argument ensued. It was all because of a priest. It had made no sense, what Matt did. I knew that he didn't particularly care for religion and that he only went to keep an eye on me, but still, why murder the man? Was it because I confessed to him?

* * *

"_Father, forgive me, for I have sinned. It's been one year, two months, six days since I last confessed."_

"_Speak, my son."_

"_I have…done so much wrong." Tears stung at my eyes, some even trailing down._

"_God forgives those who ask for forgiveness. Be brave and confess before the Lord."_

"_I…have lusted. In my foolishness, I lusted after my best friend. Father, I hurt him s-so bad."_

"_It's all right, continue."_

"_I m-murdered people, I stole, I cheated, I coveted and took. But Mattie, fuck, I hurt him…"_

"_I can see your heavy heart," the man said calmly. "Confessions are not only to help gain forgiveness, but are to help heal the heart. You have many unresolved issues, my son. Now, what did you do to your friend?"_

_

* * *

_Father Daniel heard my confession, the only one to hear of what I did to Matt. Was that why he died? Did Matt know that's what my confession was about? It didn't make sense, but nothing else did either. Still, I had to know, Mello had to know. Why the killing again?

~_~_~_~_~_

It had been hours since Matt drove off, but I wasn't surprised. Worried? Yes. Surprised? No. It had become a common thing for him to drive off in that hunk of junk car and not come back for hours, or even days. He never bothered to explain himself, but each and every time I was worried that we had been discovered. Had he been killed by a vengeful Kira worshiper?

The news was on as usual. Fear bubbled up in my chest as I just waited to see his mangled body, tossed in a ditch. Would they put his autopsy picture up, wanting anyone to call and identify the body? If they did, could I even make that call? Or would he just remain a John Doe, buried alone on the side of the hill?

"There was a fire reported today. Three people were injured and one man died. His body was so charred that it was unrecognizable, yet police believe that they can identify the man."

Fire.

"The explosion seemed to have been caused by a string of bombs surrounding the area, remotely controlled by the man who is now in a body bag."

Explosion.

"His flesh had been licked by flames and his lungs were burned not only by the heat but by the smoke. It was a slow death, and agonizing. There was no one there to rescue him, and he cried out to his God."

There was vomit on the floor as I sobbed and heaved. Phantom pains shot through my left side, making me scream in agony. This wasn't real, it wasn't real, it couldn't be! There was no fire, there was no smoke, I am ok. But I wasn't. Everything burned, it seared through my flesh. I prayed, prayed so hard as I dug through the fiery rubble, needing to get away from the Japanese police. There was blood, so much blood and the agony. It left me dizzy.

Still shaking, I looked up at the television. The woman's smiling face was seen and a picture of a puppy was beside her.

"And that's the story of Bells. I'm Janice Lovelock, and I'll see you again at six." Cheery music played, the news logo went up and then a commercial played. There had been no fire, no one dead.

The mess, I needed to clean it up. Swallowing painfully, I forced myself to my feet and went for the cleaning supplies. Thankfully, there was hardwood flooring in the living room and it wasn't too hard to clean the puke up. Still, I found myself scrubbing and scrubbing. I could feel the burn, the flames licking my body. There was no greater pain than being burned alive. No greater pain physically, that is.

"What the hell is wrong with you," Mello hissed. "Do you like being the bitch? Are you too scared of a little fire? It made you stronger, damn it! Suck it up! They'll eat you alive, they always will!"

I was just so tired. Tired of struggling, tired of running, and tired of fighting. I just wanted rest. But sleep brought no rest. Even orgasm didn't sooth me. It was painful, nothing more.

Hating Matt was impossible. He used my body to gain that release, to be free from this horrid world for a moment, but I didn't hate him for it. Didn't I do the same to him? No, it wasn't the same, but it wasn't any better.

* * *

"_Matt!" I called out around my chocolate bar. He looked up from the computer screen, his eyes practically glazed over from staring at it too long. I licked my lips as I stared at him. That's all, just watching. He saw my gaze and began to shift uncomfortably. I could see the bulge and laughed; he wanted me so badly and he tried so hard to hide it. No pun intended._

"_W-what, Mels?" he asked, trying to tear his eyes away from my hand as it slid down my chest._

"_Mmm, I don't know." I know you want me. "Why don't you take a break, and sit by me?" It's all just a game._

"_Uh, well, I'll be fine over here, actually." How cute, he tried to sound serious._

"_Suit yourself," I sing-songed. Wicked hands, my own filthy hands slid down to rub at my crotch. The leather felt good against my flesh, and I stroked a little harder. All work and no play wasn't something I liked to do, and playing with Matt was the most fun._

_A glare hid his eyes from me, but I knew he was watching. The truth was, I wanted him to watch me. I wanted him to touch me just as much as _he_ wanted to touch me. Our little romance had started so many years ago, and so innocently, but those times were far gone. My intentions were anything but innocent. Letting my eyes slide shut, I could picture Matt touching me. His hot mouth working me into a frenzy while I helplessly moaned._

_It was too much for him, so he came to play. Pushing my hand away, Matt pulled the zipper down and freed my straining cock. Immediately, one hand got to work on my member, as I watched his other hand slide down to his own need. _

"_Suck me, like the bitch you are," I groaned, the familiar language of the whore houses slipping through. Matt was no bitch, he was special. He was the only one who had ever and ever will, make me feel this way._

_Blue eyes looked up through brownish bangs as he took the head into his mouth. I wanted to scream in pleasure, to hold him still and face-fuck him, but I had more control than that. I was Mello, and I never showed weakness. Instead, I just bit my knuckles, holding back cries of pleasure and adoration. He worked so hard to pleasure me, and he knew just how to do it right. The only one who knew how to do it right._

_I loved Matt, but there was no room for love in war. There was no space for it amidst revenge on conquest. And I would die before the end._

_

* * *

_Being left alone in the house, I had no choice but to live with my haunting memories. I had shamelessly torn him apart, inside and out. I deserved this punishment for what I had done. But I couldn't help but wish that Matt had been spared. He didn't deserve to suffer like I did.

"Hail Mary, full of grace." My fingers were already sliding on the beads. "Our Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen."

The words, etched into my mind continued as I moved to another bead. The Virgin, the beautiful and blessed Virgin. I begged to her in my mind. Begging that she could see Matt as blameless and free him from these tortures. Mary would understand the pain; she had lived through so much in her life. "Please," I whispered, "please help Matt."

~_~_~_~_~_

Matt came home with some food and another bag of something. He threw that bag in the bathroom before just falling down on the couch. His Playstation 3 sat alone and untouched and the television continued to flash stupid sitcoms. I missed seeing him play his games, always engrossed. He used to run into walls all the time since he refused to look up from his game. I laughed back then. When was the last time I laughed?

"What the fuck's your problem?" he snarled as I stared at him.

Steeling up, I, Mello replied. "Your stupidity is my problem."

"Piss off, jackass," he hissed. "I'm not stupid."

No, you're just stressed out. "If you weren't, there wouldn't be a dead man on the news all the fucking time."

He was on his feet again, shoving me against the wall. I felt a few stitches pull out, but I didn't want another fist fight. "You better just shut the hell up, Mello! It's none of your damn business why I do what I do!"

Yes, shut up Mello. "Ok, I'll shut up!" I yelled, hoping that he'd back away and not give me another set of bruises.

Slowly, his balled fists released my shirt. Those striking blue eyes stared at me for a moment before he leaned in for a kiss. I could have turned away, but I didn't have the will to. There wasn't any love between us anymore and that hurt. That's why I didn't want to be touched by him anymore, I didn't want to feel like the slut I was for years. Not with him. However, I didn't have the will power to deny him. They say that the opposite of love isn't hate, but indifference. That's why I'm so scared I don't love him anymore.

~_~_~_~_~_

How stupid of me! I thought that everything would be ok, that Matt would get out of this funk, but no, no, no, no! When I found out that he had been hurt by a priest I wanted to cry. The look on his face, the fear that was still imprinted. Why didn't I ever figure it out? Why did I let him come to a place that would hurt him? If we didn't go to church, he would have never gone berserk. Now, there wasn't only one body, but two.

"Shit, holy fucking shit!"

The new lady was rambling about the dead computer shop owner and I paced in front of the couch trying to figure out what to do. If we stuck around here any longer, Matt was likely to go off and kill someone else and the police would eventually find us. If we ran…where could we go? Would we have to live like gypsies, always moving and always afraid of being caught? I didn't even notice that my thoughts were running out of my mouth.

"Mello, get in here." Jerking to a halt, it took me a moment to realize that Matt was awake and calling for me.

Walking into the room, I couldn't help but allow my intellectual side to question him. Even if he had a right to kill the priest (which I still doubted), what had that innocent man done to deserve death?

"Matt, you're awake," I sighed softly, looking over his pale naked body. "What the fuck is going on?" As soon as the words left my mouth I felt stupid for asking. Would he go into a rage? Would he try to kill _me_?

"You need to get us a van," he stated calmly. Unlike me, he wasn't panicking. "We're leaving here as soon as I get rid of the evidence that we were here."

As I turned to follow out the command, I couldn't help but ask the saints for protection. The prayer was not only for me, but for Matt too.

"Wait," Matt snapped as he grabbed my wrist. His next words stung at me and the look in his eyes turned my blood cold. "If you leave me, I'll kill you. I'm dead serious, Mels, I will _kill_ you."

He was serious, and I was afraid. Afraid of the monster I had created.

But I had a job to do. I needed to get us a vehicle to leave. Stealing a car wasn't hard. It hadn't been hard since Matt taught me how to do it.

* * *

"_Er, Mello, kicking won't make the car turn on."_

"_What the fuck do you want me to do?!" I snapped as I let my boot collide once more against the front bumper. _

"_It's out of gas, Mels, so it's not going to turn on. Let's just grab another car and be on our way."_

_Glancing at him, I considered his words. Was Matt saying what I thought he was saying? Did he seriously know how to hot wire a car? Looking over him, at his unimposing outfit and his bored expression, no one would believe how much intelligence was stored in that brain. That brain was at my disposal, to do whatever I wished with it._

"_You know how to jack a car, Mattie?" I asked softly, enjoying how he blushed at my using his pet name._

"_Y-yeah. C'mon, I'll show you how to do it too."_

_I was impressed to see him work on some random car. Those gloved fingers worked deftly, and soon we were rewarded with a purring beast of a car. "That was easy," I complimented as I slid into the passenger seat._

"_Or you can do this," he instructed as he pulled down the sun visor to reveal a set of keys. _

"_Aww, were you showing off just for me?" I purred as I leaned into his personal space. "For me, Mattie?"_

"_Maybe a little?" he replied softly, looking into my eyes and begging for a reward._

_

* * *

_I wondered if he was finished cleaning up yet as I drove into the garage with the white van. Walking into the house, I was hit with the smell of bleach and I nearly gagged. Matt was still scrubbing things down, careful not to leave behind even a hair of evidence. When he refused to acknowledge my existence, I decided to pack up.

"I'll pack up."

Still, no response. Just the constant scrubbing.

My body went on auto-drive as I packed everything up. All I could even think to do was pray. I could pray that we would be ok, that it would all work out. We could leave the country and move to Slovenia. My father's house was still up and we could move in there. I would never force him to church, and he would never have to worry about people coming to arrest him. He would be able to finally calm down and live his happy life. I could still here his voice, that wishful tone as he whispered his dreams to me. Dreams of a happier life away from everything. This life was a far cry from that, and I wanted to make it better. In the least, I owed him that.

"It never ends, does it?" I heard him whisper as I walked in to get him. There was such sadness, such defeat in his voice.

Mello wanted to scream that no, we would be different, that we would beat the system. After all, he had been above that system for so long, but that's not who I was anymore. I was broken, tired, and without reason. "Usually, it doesn't. For us, it never will."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he screamed as he shoved me against the door. "We can't give up, never! Don't tell me you're scared!"

"I am scared!" I screamed back, hoping that he could see, that he could understand. L was gone, revenge was gone, twenty years of my life was all fucking gone!

"I refuse to believe that," he hissed angrily. "And you can't believe that either!"

A look of disgust and hate seared through me, cutting me deeply. There had only been one person who had never looked at me like that, no matter how stupid I was or what sinful things I did. It had been my Mattie, but even that comfort was torn away as he handcuffed me to the back of the van. I felt sick, disgusted with myself. Even as I prayed, I wondered if anyone was listening anymore.

~_~_~_~_~_

Insanity. That's all this was. I begged Matt to stop, to rest, to do anything than smoke and drive. Occasionally his hand would reach over and he would take a drink of Mountain Dew, but that was it. All alone in the back with a raw wrist encased in warm metal, I had no choice but to reflect. Mello was silent and God never answered my prayers.

Sometimes, Matt would start talking to himself. He would mumble something about the surveillance, and sometimes he would cry. I tried to go to him, but the handcuff wasn't the only thing holding me back. The pain, I was scared of it. Just like when I was a child, I shied away from any chance of that feeling shooting through me. Mello never ran from pain, but I did. I always did.

It felt like I was back there for years, but I knew better than that. Matt couldn't keep going without sleep no matter how much caffeine he chugged. No food, no sleep, and no water. I expected this. Still, I was surprised as I felt the van lurch to the side. Sitting up, I tried to see Matt's face.

"Matt? Please, just pull over." His hands clenched the wheel tighter and from the back it looked as if he was trying to overcome the body's needs. He was trying to keep going. "Matt, listen! We're not going to get fucking caught if you take a break! I'll even drive!"

"L-let's do this," he slurred as he struggled to drive. "I'll meet you at the rendezvous."

Swallowing down the fear, I tried to squeeze my wrist out of the handcuff. "Mattie, we're not there anymore," I tried in a calm voice. "You don't need to drive right now."

"I am not fucking scared!" he shouted as he turned to face me. "Mello, I'm not-"

Those unfocused eyes slid shut and he slumped sideways before he could even finish yelling at me. It was strange really, what happened next. I wasn't scared as I watched the wheel spin without guiding hands. There was no sound and for a moment I wondered if I was dreaming again. Everything was spinning, before a loud scream of ripping metal the crash exploded all around. Was I screaming? Was Matt ok?

Pitter-patter. It was raining.

Pain shot through my right arm, and this time I knew I screamed. Opening me eyes, I yelped as the smallest movement caused even more agony. Oh God, did I break my neck? Panting, I looked around without moving my neck. It looked like the van was on its side, and I was dangling from the side that was now facing up. Something cold was lapping at my legs and it took me a few minutes to realize that it was water. Water? Wait, Matt.

"Matt? Are you ok?" I called nervously.

The lack of response made my heart skip a beat. After a few deep breaths, I tested my neck, seeing if I could move it without cutting through my spinal cord. Relief flooded my body as I realized that it wasn't my neck that was hurt. Looking to the side though, all that relief drained out. My right arm, the one that had been handcuffed, was stuck in the twisted metal that used to be the back of the van. Blood dripped out of the mangled metal, accompanying the rain drops that fell in through a hole in the side facing the sky. Wait, I had to make sense of this all. I was cuffed to the back of the van on the passenger side. It was obvious that this was the side that was facing up, so that meant that the driver's side was the one that was…dear God.

"MATT?! Fuck, Mattie!"

Kicking aside some of our stuff, I got a clear view of the driver's seat. Matt was slumped against the cracked window on his side and blood was staining the water that was slowly rising around him. He groaned a little before he slumped again, unmoving. The windshield was cracked as well and I could see that we were in some kind of river. The entire front end of the van was submerged, but the inside of the van hadn't equalized yet. Water was slowly filling up the vehicle from the cracks, but I knew that soon the glass would have to give way to the pressure.

Ignoring the scream of pain, I pulled myself up using my pinned arm as leverage. From my side of the van I could see that the butt end of the stupid vehicle had landed on some kind of rocks which explained both the mangled metal and the fact that the back end was higher up than the front. Lowering myself, I gasped as I realized how quickly the water was rising. Looking back at Matt, I could see that half his face was already submerged. If he didn't wake up, he would drown.

"Please, Matt wake up!"

But…no matter how much I screamed, nothing happened. The water continued to rise steadily and I was helpless to watch. I tried everything, but I wasn't able to reach Matt. His seatbelt prevented him from floating much in the water and I knew that very soon he would drown. But what could I do?

Crying, I prayed to God, begging for a miracle or anything. Protect Matt, help me, something! But as the minutes passed by nothing happened. My feet were numb, but there was no pain that could compare to watching the one you loved dying only a few feet away from you. With wide eyes I watched as he was completely submerged in the icy water. My throat was raw from screaming. I thought I saw his eyes fluttering, but he didn't move. His body convulsed as it tried to breathe, but nothing filled the lungs except that damned water. Laughing, I was laughing now. Kira couldn't kill me with fire, and now he chose water. But I wouldn't die. I was too high up for the water to drown me. No, I just got to watch as Matt's body eventually stilled, the only movement was the water swirling his red hair.

Pitter-patter. Splash. Hot tears streamed down my face as my left hand tightened around my rosary. I had done nothing but pray for protection and for Matt, and this was what happened? "Why have you forsaken me?!" I screamed at the sky, but there was no divine revelation, no answer of any kind. Just that damned pitter-patter. I failed; there was nothing I could do.

"…"

Sobbing, I realized that I was right. There was nothing that I could do. I was too weak, always had been. There had only been one person who had been strong enough. He laughed at fate and kicked it in the teeth with prejudice. Yes, he was the closest thing there was to a god right now. I needed Mello.

My hand tightened around the rosary, before I tore it off my neck. The beads shot everywhere, floating around the water under me. Slowly, I unclenched my hand and I watched as the crucifix dropped into the water and disappeared in the darkness. "Fuck you," I hissed before looking around. There was a way, but it wasn't going to be pretty. Oh well, my beauty hadn't been an issue since the first fire. Clenching my teeth, I grabbed a loose piece of jagged metal.

"Just hold still, Matt," I hissed before closing my eyes tightly.

Metal tore through flesh and there was no holding back the scream through my clenched teeth. Excruciating pain, but it wouldn't last that long. With a deep breath, I shoved the metal further, hearing the sinews tearing and giving way to the sharp object. Cutting through the bone would have taken too long, so I had gone for the path of least resistance. Joints were a hell of a lot easier to cut apart.

Another shriek of pain, but I didn't stop. Forcing my eyes opened, I finished it. Pulling back the bloodied metal, one last swipe and I fell down into the cold water. Blood spilled everywhere, but I had something else to deal with first. Running through the water and kicking aside anything in my way I fell over to Matt. The icy water came up to my chin, but I ignored it to fight with the fucking seat belt holding him down. He was pale and I almost had the mind to feel scared. Then again, fear was weakness.

"Don't think I'll let you die," I hissed as my hand fought with the buckle that didn't want to give way. "You're mine, asshole, and I'm not giving you to anyone! Shit!"

When the buckled didn't come apart, I waded back to the shard of metal that still shimmered with my blood. It bit into my fingers, forcing more blood for the sacrifice. Still, I held on. Once I took my new weapon to the seat belt, it gave way, releasing Matt from his confines.

"Heh, hold on a little longer," I commanded as I braced myself against the passenger seat and kicked at the fragile windshield. There was no time for me to hold my breath as the glass shattered allowing a painful wave of water to crash into me. Grabbing the back of Matt's shirt, I used my legs to kick away from the van. Once we were clear from the vehicle, I struggled to get to the surface.

My lungs burned, my body was numb, and several times it felt like he was going to slip out of my grip. It seemed that I hadn't moved any nearer to the surface, though, and the thought of leaving him so that I could live flashed through my mind. After all, I always looked out for number one, right?

That crooked smile flashed before my eyes. Wide eyes always watched me, small fingers always holding mine. That nose always red from having so many allergies to outdoor things. Yes, I was always looking out for number one and right now he was unconscious. I would be damned if a little water would beat me. Besides, I wasn't that fucking far from the surface! It was like a motherfucking foot above me!

Breathing is something that most people take for granted, but it was something that I had learned to cherish. This moment was no exception. A loud gasp filled my lungs as soon as I broke the surface of the water, but there was no time to relish my victory. My legs were kicking again and soon we were on the muddy shore. It wasn't enough that he was as heavy as a freakin' cow, but my own limbs felt like cement blocks. Still, I struggled until I pulled him away from the water's edge. Only then did I fall to my knees beside him and start CPR.

Tilt head back, pinch nose, and breathe. Breathe. Push, push, push, push, push. Tilt, pinch, breathe. Repeat. Repeat.

Water spilled out from his lungs, but there was no other response. Still, I tried. I continued. I could have called out to him, begging him to live, but that was stupid and it would have just wasted my breath. Breath that I could be giving him. Instead, I added a solid slap to the routine. Slap, push, push, push. Tilt, pinch, breathe. Slap. Any sane person would have stopped, especially since the blood loss was causing dizziness, but as I've already established. I'm not just a sane person. No, I've never limited myself to such a mundane term. No, I was not even a remotely normal person. I was Mello, and I lived my own way. I would die my own way too, and no one was going to stop me. But first of all, I was going to drag Matt back up to me, if it was just to punch him in the face and call him an idiot.

A passage of scripture came to mind as I fought to revive my friend, my lover. The devil and the angels fighting over Moses' body. In this case, which one was I? Was I selfishly pulling him away from heaven, or was I doing him a favor and dragging him out of hell? Either way, it didn't matter. Only seeing that smile one more time.

My lips covered his mouth, but this time a cough made me jerk away. Immediately, I turned him on his side to help him cough up the remaining water. Rain began to pour even more heavily on the both of us, and I knew that even though we survived this long, chances were that we wouldn't live the night. The cold helped to keep me from bleeding to death so quickly, but I still didn't have long.

"Babe," I whispered as I pulled Matt onto his back. Those blue eyes looked around in confusion and unfocused. He had a concussion and was bleeding pretty badly as well. "Remember me," I whispered against his frozen lips. In these last moments, I didn't have time to feel angry or hateful. One kiss, one last breath.

One chance.

Grabbing his hand, I struggled up the hill that prevented us from being seen from the road. The snow was painted with my blood before it was wiped away by Matt's body. The edges of my vision were going black, but I continued. I could reach the top, I knew I could. Step. Just put one foot in front of the other. Again. Again.

The top of the hill, the side of the road. There were no cars, but one would eventually have to pass through. Leaving Matt's now unconscious body on the shoulder of the road, I trudged to the middle of it. There was no more strength, so I fell to my knees. My blond hair was plastered to my face and neck, but it didn't bother me. I couldn't feel it anymore. All I could feel was the slowing beats of my heart, pumping the blood that was no longer there.

Thump.

Headlights flashed in the distance.

Thump.

They turned the corner.

Thump.

Windshield wipers dancing back and forth.

…Thump.

Brakes screeching.

……Thump.

"So sorry," I muttered. "Matt."

SLAM

* * *

**Author's Notes: Please don't kill me? -hides behind the chair- I hope that you all enjoyed this as much as you enjoyed the other chapters. Hopefully, this chapter also shed light on Mello during the whole mess. Feel free to comment on any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. Also, I would love to read your thoughts on this chapter, so please review! Have any questions? I'll answer them! So, I'm still debating how to handle the ending. One more chapter? Or one more chapter and an epilouge? Maybe even two chapters? Hmm, still not sure yet.**

**Thanks for reading!  
**


	9. Forgiven

**The title of this chapter comes from Within Temptation's song "Forgiven". The italics with single quotations ( ' ' ) are memories. Italics with double quotations ( " " ) are...well, you'll see.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or Within Temptation's song**

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* * *

  
**

The smell of lilies.

A constant dripping.

Ceaseless beeping.

It took me a long time before I was able to separate the individual noises and it was even longer before I was able to identify any of them. Shoes scuffing along the linoleum floor; a clipboard being scribbled on. There were sounds, but there was no sight. Everything was dreamlike and the darkness encased me completely. Was I alive? Dead? Did it even matter?

I felt…pressure on my eyes, but I didn't have the energy to move my hand to feel at it. As a matter of fact, it felt like I was being loaded with morphine. No pain, just pressure. I think my fingers flexed. What I assumed was a nurse set down the clipboard; almost immediately a door clicked shut. I was alone, somewhere; probably in a hospital. Why did my chest tighten? Why was I scared?

"You're awake." My body tensed at the soft voice. I guess that I'm not alone, but who was there? That voice sounded so familiar, but I just couldn't place it. "Don't worry," the voice continued. "You have a serious concussion, so you may be a bit confused for a while."

"Concussion?" The word felt heavy on my lips.

"Yes. You were in an accident over a week ago and received a severe concussion, brain damage. On top of that, you were dehydrated, sleep deprived, and in a terrible mental state."

Those were a lot of words, but they didn't really make sense to me. "Who…who am I? Who are you?"

The voice chuckled, but there was no humor in it at all. "Your name is Mail Jeevas."

That name shot through my body like a current of electricity. Panic bubbled up and I wanted to run, wanted to get away from here. But why? Why?!

"H-how do you know that name?" I hissed, not really understanding why I was reacting this way.

'_You are no longer Mail Jeevas. He is as good as dead. From now on, you will be referred to as Matt.'_

"Well, I know many things."

'_This is Wammy's House, a place for gifted orphans. Try to make friends.'_

"Don't toy with me!" Mind games, I was so sick of them. It just made the pressure build up even more in my head.

"My apologies. Perhaps it's still too early to talk with you." The sound of clothing sliding down a chair reached my ears, and then I heard soft socks shuffling across the linoleum.

"Wait," I whispered. "Who are you?"

There was a pause. "You can call me, Near. Just Near."

~_~_~_~_~_

"_Remember me."_

Remember who? There were so many things that buried in my mind, and it was frustrating not to be able to pull them up. Who was Near? Why did he annoy me with his presence alone? He would sit beside me, not saying a word, for a good twelve hours every day. Then he would disappear and be gone for the next twelve hours. Just like clockwork. I was confused. If he cared about me, why didn't he speak to me? Where did he go? If he bothered me so much, why didn't I have the energy to tell him to go?

Because I was scared.

He was sitting next to me a few days later. The doctors wanted to check my eyes, so they were going to pull away the gauze and bandages that had covered up my sight. Near commanded the nurses to pull all the blinds close and to turn off the lights except for the lamp next to my bed. They all did what he said, and then I felt thin fingers begin to unwind the bandages. Cool air brushed against my exposed eyelids and I sighed in relief. The pressure was relieved.

"His eyes are extremely photosensitive, so please refrain from flashing that ridiculously bright light into his eyes." Always bossing around people, like he felt the need to be heard. It was annoying.

"Of course," the doctor replied. "Now, Matt, please try to open your eyes."

Matt, he called me Matt instead of Mail. This name felt safer, it didn't scare me. "Ok," I replied before forcing the thin flesh protecting my eyes to pull up. It was hard, but I kept trying. I could see some blurry figures moving around, but I wasn't able to focus on anything.

"Can you see how many fingers I'm holding?" the doctor asked and I shook my head slowly. I didn't want to make my head hurt even worse. "What do you see?"

"Blurry crap," I mumbled. "I see things moving, but I can't focus."

"I see," he replied. "Well, let's just keep these bandages off your eyes and see if they will adjust."

There was some more scribbling on the clipboard and then the doctor left along with all the nurses. As usual, Near stayed by me. Looking to the side, all I saw was white. White blurry fuzz balls. "What are you wearing?" I asked, wondering if my eyes were completely screwed over.

"White pajamas." Such a blunt answer. So, at least I could see color, or the lack thereof.

"Why are you wearing pajamas? It's the afternoon."

"They are comfortable."

"So?"

"So, what? They are comfortable, so I wear them."

"That's lame," I snorted.

There was a silence between us for a little longer before Near decided to once more attempt to talk to me. "Do you remember Wammy's House?" he asked softly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Wammy's House, isn't that a place for gifted orphans?" I mumbled. It felt like the name should have meant a lot more to me, but that was all I was able to come up with.

"Yes, it was. It was a place built to create the next L."

"L?"

"Yes. There were large gates and a high fence that surrounded the place. The house itself was large, almost worthy of being called a mansion. It had soft carpeting that was worn down by so many feet running over it."

A picture was being painted into my mind, and I was helpless to the brush strokes. Those gates always glinted so prettily on the warm sunny days. That large house always scared me if I was alone and that's why I walked everywhere with…wait, the name escapes me. Who did I walk down those halls with?

"I…was there?"

"We were there," Near replied, still speaking softly as if he was afraid that his very voice would break me. "We were both there."

"Someone else, I was walking with someone else."

"…There were many people at Wammy's House."

I could sense that he was keeping something from me, but I was too tired to press for more information. If he was going to be a jackass, that was fine with me. Besides, keeping my eyes open for so long was wearing me out. I needed a nap. Being careful not to hurt myself, I rolled over to my side and sighed.

* * *

"_Sheesh, Mattie, you always want so many kisses."_

_I was a little ashamed, but I couldn't help it. His kisses were so addictive, and I couldn't live without them. We were older now, and understood what kisses really meant. Still, we didn't stop like we should have. "Can I have one, or not?" I asked a little grumpily. _

_Sighing in annoyance, he pulled me behind a tree where we probably wouldn't be caught. Even though he always acted as if it were a chore, once he kissed me, that train of thought would go out the window. He would cling desperately to me, shyly opening his mouth to let me in. This time was no different. My clumsy fingers ran through his hair, pulling his mouth closer to mine and his thin fingers held my waist. _

_

* * *

_I could never really see his face. It was always in a shadow; however, I could feel those lips and they made me quiver. Was it…Near? Did I hold Near that way, kiss him that way? Is that why he sat next to me all the time? My confused mind couldn't comprehend anything, so I just tried to get some rest. Every time I woke up, it seemed like more things fell into place, so I was eager to sleep. Who knew what I would be able to remember when I woke up next time?

~_~_~_~_~_

One moment I was ok, and the next I was screaming in terror. A nurse had come in to check on my head. This wasn't unusual, but this time, she was talking to herself as she did it. She said a name, a fucking _name_, and the next them I knew I was flailing around, trying to pull all that shit out of me so I could run, run far away.

"Get him some Clonazepam!" Near shouted. I felt his tiny body fling across mine, desperately trying to keep me from hurting myself. "Matt, stop it! He's gone, he's gone! He can't hurt you anymore, just snap out of it!"

'_He killed L, Matt. L, fucking L! I can't let him get away for that!'_

'_But what can _you_ do? L was supposed to be the fucking best! If he couldn't beat Kira, what makes you think you can?'_

"He can't be gone!" I screeched, struggling against the frail body against me. "He's going to kill me, I have to go!" Throwing Near off of me, he fell to the floor and a cracking sound shocked me. Panting, I looked down at the small figure biting his lip so he wouldn't cry out. I could see the white curls, the unbelievably pale skin, and the white pajamas. Red rimmed eyes.

Several nurses surrounded me and held me down as the doctor put something into my IV bag. I wasn't struggling anymore, merely out of shock. I had hurt Near. One of the nurses rushed to his side and helped him up. Wincing he struggled to stand up. "Is-is he going to be ok?" he forced through clenched teeth.

The doctor gave me a worried glance before helping Near out of the room to talk more privately. I felt sick, absolutely disgusted with myself. Who was Kira and why did he scare me so much? Why the fuck couldn't I just figure this all out?!

~_~_~_~_~_

Sometimes, ignorance is the best thing. Blind hope, stupidity, whatever you want to call it, that is man's greatest gift. That's how mankind has survived so long. Don't tell them that they are doomed, and they'll continue to chug along like there's nothing wrong with the world.

Lying on my back, I wished that I was one of those ignorant people. But no, I was far from ignorant. I knew too much. Wammy's House, Near, Kira, everything had fallen into place. Everything was so clear, and I felt sick. There weren't voices in my head, there weren't hallucinations haunting me. But I could remember them.

It was like someone pressed pause on all the shit that usually floats around my head. I could think clearly, without the usual drug induced haze or the hangovers. That panic, it was gone. All that was left was a sense of self-loathing. Memories flitted behind my eyelids, like a movie. Disassociation, that's what my mind was doing. I was disassociating myself from the horrible things I did. And still, I watched. Still, there were a few pieces missing.

As soon as Near limped into my room, at exactly ten in the morning, my eyes slid open and I spoke up.

"Where's Mello?" Shit, just saying that name brought tears to my eyes. If Near didn't bother to tell me what his condition was already, that only meant one thing. It was bad news. On top of that, I could clearly see his weariness and I knew where he'd been going for the other twelve hours. Did he even sleep?

"You remember everything?" he questioned wearily before sitting on the chair next to me with a wince.

"Not really. I just…we didn't die. I remember that much, but afterwards is a mess. I can't seem to recall what happened."

Near continued to stare at the floor for a moment longer. "Well, I cannot give you details of what happened because I was not there. However, I can give you a brief idea. You were suffering from a severe case of post traumatic stress disorder. Branching off that, you developed borderline personality disorder."

"I…went crazy?"

The bastard answered without a moment's hesitation. "In the simplest of terms, yes. Mello was also suffering from his own mental anguish, but we…can't really be sure."

His halting tone made me was to cry. Was it really that bad? "W-what happened?"

"Right now, the doctors have you on some anti-depressants and a mood-stabilizer. It seems to be working some, but future therapy will have to include psychotherapy-"

"Nate, tell me what the hell happened!" I ordered. He was avoiding the question and that only made me worry more. I could see Near visibly collect himself.

"You murdered two men and then ran," Near replied coldly. "Since you were in no state of mind to drive, you ended up losing control of the vehicle and it fell into a river. You sustained a concussion from that as well as some other physical trauma."

"And Mello?" I whispered. I could almost see his face now, beaming brightly at me. He just wanted to play a game, that's all.

"He…well, it would be best for you to see for yourself. But you need to recover first."

"Bull shit," I hissed in anger. Forcing my unsteady body into a sitting position, I glared at him. "If it's that bad, then what the fuck are we waiting for? I want to see him now!"

Snowflakes were sticking to the window. Damn weather, couldn't it make up its mind? That day was raining, spring was coming. Now, it was all back to the bleakness of winter. Near looked down at his pale hands. White, white, everything about him was white! Everything but…his soul. That was black.

Deciding that he would rather not argue with me, Near called some nurses. After having a chat with them, they brought in a wheelchair for me. Although I was thinking pretty clearly, my head was still a mess and my balance was nearly shot; there would be no way I could walk anywhere. Once I was seated, one of the nurses pushed me along and the other nurse wheeled my IV bags alongside me. As we headed for the intensive care unit, I almost couldn't hold in the bile that threatened to spew out.

_I hit him._

Up the elevator.

_I raped him, over and over._

Down the hall.

_I didn't protect the only person I loved. I hurt him._

I watched in my mind's eyes in disgust as I lost control and beat him, beat the only person I loved. But that wasn't enough. I violated him too. Not once, not twice; it was over and over just to sate my pathetic need to pull away from the world. Hindsight is 20/20 they say. Well, whoever "they" are were spot on. Looking back I could see Mello struggling every bit as I was, but he didn't lose control. Not once. I was the weak one.

Take a left and down another hallway. Finally, we paused in front of a room. Near shifted in pain and discomfort. He never did like walking, and his cracked tailbone only made it more difficult for him.

"Matt, I can't make this any easier for you." Swallowing thickly, I nodded.

Once the door opened, I felt like all the wind had been knocked out of me. There were machines everywhere, tubes, and needles. Mello was lying on the bed with so much stuff hooked up to him that I couldn't identify even half of them. He was so pale, so sickly. Then I saw his arm, oh gods, his _arm_. Where there should have been a right arm was nothing more than bandaged stump that ended several inches above his non-existent elbow.

"Oh, gods, no…"

"It seemed that he had amputated his own arm in order to escape the sinking vehicle, but because of infection, the doctors had to amputate it further up." Near's voice was so hollow, as if he was just reading numbers off a board.

Mello's other hand was completely covered in bandages and his left arm was full of needles pumping all kinds of shit into his body. Tubes were going down his nose and down his throat. Even more stuff was attached, but I couldn't stand to look at it anymore.

"He…is he?" I couldn't even finish my damn sentences.

"There was a massive amount of blood loss and because of how long it took to get a blood transfusion, several of his organs have died. These machines are all that's keeping his body alive."

"K-keeping his body alive?"

Near took a deep breath, but forged on. "He's almost brain dead. There's not much activity because of all the brain damage from lack of oxygen and blood. Still, he's alive, Matt. He hasn't given up."

"Is this w-where you've been going?"

"Yes," he admitted. "The doctors expected him to die last week, but…he's been waiting." For the first time in my life, I saw the humanity that Near had always worked so hard to keep buried. His hand came over his mouth and his face twisted in anguish. Agony swam in his eyes as the tears began to overflow. Turning on his heels, I watched as he collapsed outside the door, crying like the child he looked like.

I could no longer choke back my own emotions. Resting my head at the foot of his bed, I let the tears fall and the sobs echo in the room. What had I done to him? Beautiful Mello, lovely Mihael. This is what I turned him into. It was all my fault. If only I had been strong! I wouldn't have lost control; I wouldn't have crashed the van!

* * *

_Rain drops fell across my face, like cold tears. Opening my eyes, I could see his pale face, those blue lips. Snow was all around us and I felt cold, but I couldn't do anything. Wet hair tickled my face as he leaned close, his lips barely touching my own. Warm blood was running over my side._

"_Remember me."_

_It was a whisper, but I could feel it running through my body. A kiss, a slow deep kiss. It wasn't rushed or panicked. Mello knew what he was doing, what would happen. I didn't kiss back, I was too tired. I saw the bloody limb as he pulled away, the bright red liquid running down. He was in pain, but he still took a hold of my limp arm with his remaining and blood-stained hand and he dragged me up the hill._

_

* * *

_"Please forgive me!" I sobbed as I clenched the sheets at the foot of his bed. I didn't deserve forgiveness. "Oh God, I'm so sorry, Mello!" No other pain could ever compare to this. "I couldn't save you, I should have tried harder! It's all my fault; fuck, it's all my fault…all my damn fault."

Silence. Only the machines whirring and beeping responded as I suffered. For the first time in sixteen years, I prayed to God. I prayed to every saint, to Mary, to Jesus, to God. I even begged the angels; please don't let him suffer like this. It wasn't fair. Mello had been nothing but my friend, my only love. He had protected me, had loved me unlike anyone else had. I ignored the pain he suffered from every day, and instead just took his love selfishly. Never did I offer to just hold him and comfort him.

"I c-can't even begin to apologize enough," I stuttered through the tears. "I didn't deserve you! I don't deserve you, I'm so sorry! Please, Mello, I'm so sorry…" Near's crying increased in volume and it only added to the misery I was feeling. "D-don't suffer like this," I begged, pulling myself to the side of his bed. The nurses had been gone for a while now.

Taking his bandaged hand, I pressed my lips to it. These hands that had run over my naked body, that had pleasured me. The hand that dragged me to salvation regardless of the self-sacrifice. The fingers flexed a little, and I couldn't help but groan in agony. He was trying so hard, but he shouldn't have to. His body was mostly dead and he was still trying hard for me. Through the tears I could see his forehead wrinkle a little in the effort of trying to make any kind of movement.

"Please, babe, don't try. Shhh, just rest, you need your rest."

His finger began to stroke my palm, just like when we were little kids. We used to try to read each other's minds, and it seemed to work if we could just hold hands. I knew him so well, had studied every inch of his body. That's how I knew that he was trying to tell me it wall all ok. Even now, after all the shit he went through, he was trying to protect me, to comfort me.

"You'll always be mine," I whispered between the hiccups as I kissed each delicate finger. "I love you, Mihael, I love you so much. I just…I'm so sorry."

I'm not sure how long I sat there, resting my head against his hand. My crying had simmered down to nothing more than running tears and long heavy sighs. Near had also stopped bawling so hysterically, but he remained outside the door. Soon though, a doctor walked in, ushering in the sickly boy. Looking at him tiredly, I could see that Near's face was swollen from all the crying and his eyes were still bloodshot.

"Gentlemen," the doctor said softly. "I've just got off the phone with some people at an organ bank. I thought that you would like to have this information."

If it wasn't for his long face, I would have been jumping for joy with hope. "What?" I croaked.

"They can't give Mr. Mello any organs even if they received one his type." A lump formed in my throat and I squeezed the thin hand tightly. "He's in critical condition, and even if he received new organs he could die. They can't waste any organs on that." Waste. Like Mello was worth less than any other human out there.

"So…" Near began, but he couldn't finish the thought.

"Since you are the closest people to being his relatives, you have to decide what to do."

"What are the chances of his recovering?" I whispered.

The doctor at least had the decency to pause before his reply. "Zero percent." With that, he walked out and left us to decide. Sniffling, I let my head fall back to the mattress beside his hand. There really wasn't a choice to be made. There was no physical way to overcome this and soon enough his brain would die. His last moments were going to be suffering in this fucking hospital; did we want to postpone it and make him suffer longer than necessary? What if he survived for years on sheer stubbornness? He would develop bed sores; they would have to amputate him more and more. Surgeries to keep him alive, the humiliation of nurses cleaning him up everyday. Was that life?

"He…doesn't deserve it," Near sighed, wiping at his eyes. Fresh tears were starting to fall again. Who would have guessed that Mello would have been such an important person in both of our lives? If I wasn't so emotionally tired and focused on Mello, I would have found his crying to be almost humorous. The one person that Mello had hated almost as much as Kira was here with him.

"Y-yeah," I replied as I clenched my eyes shut. "He still has his dignity f-for now. I w-won't take that away t-too."

"M-mihael?" Near called out softly as he scooted closer. "Can you…would you be ok with…with…" Dying. That word was much too heavy and neither of us could say it.

"I know you could keep going," I whispered as I tried to keep control over myself. "Hell, you c-could probably outlive us, even like this. But, that's not you. Please, can you do it for us?"

"We can't see you like this," Near added solemnly. There was no hatefulness, no gloating in his voice. Only pain. "I-it's your choice."

After a moment of pause, Mello's forehead smoothed. His finger stroked my palm, up and down. "He s-said yes," I answered for him, trying to be strong.

We didn't want any nurses or doctors in the room at such a moment. All three of us shared a bond that could not be understood by just anyone, and it would ruin the moment to have intruders. Near had been in the room long enough that he knew what everything was. Once we turned the machines off, we gently pulled the tubes from his throat and his nose.

Clenching his hand tightly, I watched him struggle to breathe for a moment. Near sat on the bed and gently took his hand too. Tears welled in my eyes as I watched his beautiful lips move to speak a breathless word.

"_Forgiven…"_

Me, the terrible beast had been forgiven. It only made my heart ache more.

There I was, left in silence with Near. We knew that even when he stopped breathing it wasn't the end. It would be a few more minutes before he would die.

"I'm sorry, Mihael," Near confessed as he watched the still body. "I never told you how much I looked up to you. I would have never done as well as I did without you chasing after me. No, I'm not just saying this, I really do mean it." A few more tears slipped down his face. "It would have been impossible for me to beat Kira if you hadn't done what you did. T-thank you."

Mihael's last moments. I didn't want them to be full of audible misery. He was still struggling. I needed to see this with my own eyes. I needed to see my lover pass away. The tears could come later.

"I love you," I whispered. "Don't ever forget that. I love you more than anything else and I will love you forever and ever." There was nothing else that I could say to him. His hand just clenched ours tighter.

"_Remember me."_

"_Find me."_


	10. MU: Nothingness

**Here is the final chapter. If you think that the last chapter was the perfect ending, feel free to ignore this chapter. If not, read on or even better read the last chapter again and then read this one.**

**This chapter is dedicated to ToNightIamgone and MidnightInDecember.** **Also, I used Within Temptation's songs "Forgiven", "Bittersweet", and "Pale" to help inspire this.**

**

* * *

****MU: Nothingness**

Death was nothing. Then again, it was everything.

Washing over my body with its deafening roar. I didn't go looking for death, I couldn't. My life had been bought at a painfully high price, so I couldn't just wish the pain away and end things myself. No, I suffered. It was my penance.

Instead, death caught me in a flash of bright lights and the sounds of sirens. I wasn't scared and as the darkness swallowed me I didn't beg a non-existing god to give me more time. Fuck, I didn't want more time. Death wasn't the chilling specter in a hood and it wasn't the warm and gentle embrace. If anything, it was nothing. Vaguely, I felt a hand squeeze mine. Then, it was all gone.

* * *

_When all things are reduced to naught in you _

_then you shall see God. _

~Meister Eckhart

* * *

MU. Without nothing, there is not anything. In nothingness, there is nothing and there is everything. It is the womb of possibilities. To vanish, to join the nothingness and never be again. Or, to live again. To search and find. Everything seems so clear, something that the human mind could only pretend to understand. There was no heaven or hell, just MU.

My hearing stung from the silence, I couldn't feel anything. Every breath was of nothing, and I reached out and touched emptiness. The bittersweet taste of tranquility. The existence cannot be fathomed. It was so simple to just blend in with nothing, but my non-existent heart burned. The feelings had been permanently imprinted into my being, or lack thereof.

There were sins that had not been paid for.

In a moment it was all changed. Cold air. Bright lights. Voices. A very first breath all over again. "_I love you."_

~_~_~_~_~_

Stretching my lanky form, a sigh slipped past my lips before I made my way up the creaky old stairs. My heavy boots clunked against each wooden step, but it was music to my ears. Just like the constant beat of drums. Thunk, thunk, thunk. Beautiful. The words played in my head as my fingers strummed inside my lint filled pockets.

"You did so much for me, like stabbing me to the core." Each word spilled out in front of me in wisps of fog. The whispered words echoed in my skull. "So rather than leave you untouched, I'd have you breaking some more."

The next thing I knew, I was standing in front of my door. Number 404 in rusted brass hung crookedly on the wooden door. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I slid my key (who the hell uses skeleton keys anymore?) into the lock, chuckling at how perfectly it fit. Just like we did.

Glowing red, the tip of my cigarette stood out in the dark room. The only source of light came from an abandoned laptop where the bubble screen saver danced merrily. Books, dictionaries, and piles of paper surrounded the lonely computer. Sliding out of my heavy jacket and dropping it carelessly on the floor, I began to search for an ashtray. He would be pissed if I just threw the cig in the sink again.

"You forgot to close the door," a voice chided from behind me. "Who knows what kind of creepy fuckers were getting a look at your skinny ass."

Looking behind me, I smiled when I saw the familiar figure standing in the doorway. "S'up?"

The lights were flipped on, making me squint. "I was out of chocolate. How'd your practice go?"

It was hard not to be hypnotized by the sway of perfect pale hips or the curious pools of turquoise eyes. "Fine. We'll be ready for out gig on Saturday."

"Pretty sure of yourself there, cowboy," his rich British voice taunted. I think I just orgasmed.

"I've got mad skills on the bass, love. No one beats me."

Finally finding a damn ashtray, I stumped out my cigarette and walked up to my lovely blond. My arms wrapped around his waist and our lips met gently. Slowly, sensually, our lips caressed and our tongues teased. It was like we had all the time in the world. With a happy sigh, I pulled away from the kiss.

"I'm the fucking best," I whispered.

Swatting my arm painfully, he pulled away and headed for his laptop. Dragging his finger over the touchpad with one hand, he let the other hand hold the limp plastic bag that held his precious chocolate. _Supermarché_ was printed on the thin bag.

"Give me a sec, Miles; I need to finish this paragraph."

Yawning in reply, I sat on the bed before proceeding to strip out of all my clothes. Soon I was left in nothing but my boxer briefs and my retro-emo glasses. Leaving the clothe in a pile on the floor, I leaned back and watched my lover type away with one hand. His pink tongue peeked from between the devilish lips and the skin between his eyebrows crinkled in thought. Ah, he was so adorable.

Leaning back against the pale pillows, I couldn't help but let my mind wander a bit to the first time we met.

_A writhing mass of sweating bodies contorted like a beast in agony._

He had stood out, and my breath was caught up.

_Leather clad hips rolling, unreal eyes peeking out shyly._

As a matter of fact, I forgot the rest of the song we were playing. All I remember was watching him.

_Lips beckoning me to join him in the depths of hell._

We had been together ever since, strangely enough. He hadn't been like all the other groupies. As a matter of fact, that was the first time he went to one of our gigs. Funny how my thoughts always drifted to our strange and intoxicating first meeting.

Soon enough, those deft fingers shut off the computer and the blond moved over to the bed. The bag of chocolates had been left on the small desk. I lifted up the blanket and patted the mattress in a clear invitation. Shuffling over to our bed, he sighed tiredly as he stripped out of his own clothes. Once he was in nothing but his snug bikini briefs, he slipped under the sheets and cuddled with me.

"You've got some chocolate smeared on your teeth," I snorted. "And your roots are showing. Damn, you're such a mess Mikael!"

"Shut up," he grumbled as his hand subconsciously stroked the fine strands of hair. "At least I don't smell like cigarettes and booze all day."

"So true," I sighed as I pulled his slender body against my own. Mmm, just being this close to him was giving me a boner.

"My deadline's coming up, so I haven't had time to touch up my roots," he explained as he shifted uncomfortably. He hated not looking his best.

"Is that why you've been scarfing down all those chocolate bars, fatty?" I teased as I pinched his side. "Afraid of being late for your deadline again?"

That earned me a slap in the face but it was worth it to see his indignant red face. Those perfect lips were pouting and his striking eyes were narrowed dangerously. Damn, I love that look on his face. It was what I lived for. That was a face that screamed "DANGER, do not fuck with me," but I knew that I was safe. Still, it was a breathtaking scene.

"Go fuck yourself," he hissed as he tried to crawl out of bed.

Giggling, I got a hold of him and tried to keep him in bed with me. Soon we were wrestling around under the covers. My glasses had been knocked off somewhere, but it didn't bother me too much. No, I was having way too much fun enjoying the feel of his rippling muscles squirming against my steel fingers. Several kicks from those perfectly shaped legs left me breathless, but he couldn't get out of my hold. A loud annoyed groan signaled my victory.

"Hehehehe (pant pant), whoo! Hey, my glasses fell, can you help me find them?"

"Gah, stupid bastard," he grumbled as he tossed the stifling blankets off and searched for my only pair of glasses. "If these damn things break, you'll be blind until we order another pair. You should fucking get a spare like I told you to."

"It's fine," I assured him as my hands roamed over his warm skin instead of the warming sheets.

"Do you want me to find them or not?" he deadpanned. Damn, that guy had nerves of steel.

With a sigh I leaned back and nodded. It didn't take much longer before Mikael found my glasses on the floor. Setting them on my nose, he looked down at me carefully before deciding that I would make a better pillow than the ones here at the apartment.

"I'm glad you're so comfortable," I teased as he poked my stomach and then proceeded to rest his head there.

"These damn French places are shit," he grumbled. "Why couldn't you want to start your music career in England like normal people do?"

"That's no fun, Mikael. Besides, France is my native country, so why shouldn't I start here?"

"Because these rooms suck."

I couldn't help but laugh. "They've got a bed, and that's all I care about. Besides, if you're so rich and famous, why the hell would you be staying here in a broken down apartment with a wannabe musician?"

"That's a good question," he yawned as he pressed a gentle kiss to my navel. "Maybe I should move out."

The thought of him moving out made me a little sad. Still, it wouldn't be too surprising. Mikael Afonasei, a fictional novel prodigy. Most of his books revolved around murder mysteries and all of them had won all kinds of awards. Born in Russia and raised in England, he was not only a talented writer, but he was a bombshell and a martial arts enthusiast. Me? I was born in France and raised in France, England, and the United States. I had no global recognition, no good looks, and I was so pathetic that Mikael couldn't even use me as a punching bag. Seriously, our bed wrestling was usually an attempt on his part to stroke my ego. The only thing I was good at was strumming my bass. A sad existence indeed. So what the hell was he doing with me anyway?

Noticing my change in mood, my lover look up and huffed against the white flesh of my grossly thin stomach. "I was just kidding, Miles."

"I know," I mumbled. "Still, it's true."

Rolling his eyes he pinched my side making me squeak childishly. "Don't say shit like that, kay? If you really want to know why I'm here in this trashy place, it's because I want to. I've got to think pretty damn highly of you, so take the compliment and don't question it. I hate whiners."

Smiling sadly, I ran my fingers through his soft hair and stroked his face. The look on his face spoke volumes more than his words did. He wouldn't leave me even if I did whine every day. Still, he would be miserable if I continued to wallow in my self-pity and inferiority complex. He was right, if he didn't want to be here with me, he wouldn't.

"Just admit it, you spent all your money on those fancy chocolates from Switzerland," I teased with a wide grin. "You'd be homeless without me."

"Oh yeah, that's righteous," he grumbled as he snuggled against me. "And don't complain, you ate half of them. I only eat them when I need the sugar boost for writing; you don't have any excuses."

"Sure I do! I ate them 'cause I was hungry."

"…fucker." After several quiet moments just listening to each other breathing, he looked up at me and broke the silence. "Hey, I thought up of a really cool line as I was writing today. It goes something like, 'I'm the runner up for the Old World, the best dresser who died like a dog.' **(1)** It's for my anti-hero character in my newest mystery novel.

"I don't know how you come up with such crazy ideas," I mumbled. "Maybe it's like, shit from your past life or something, Mika."

He swatted my arm and scrunched up his face. "Don't be silly, Miles. My muses give me inspiration, and there is no such thing as reincarnation outside the world of fiction."

"Hmph, I disagree."

"Miles, do you remember when we first met?" he asked, suddenly changing topics.

_Green billowing grass, sparkling aquamarine eyes._

"Hell yeah," I deadpanned. "Fuck, just thinking about it makes me hard."

"It was so weird," he mumbled as his hand made its way to my fully aroused flesh. "As soon as I saw you, I felt that I had known you all my life."

_Warm rich woods, soft carpet. Blond hair brushing quivering lips._

"You're just saying that because you're embarrassed that I fucked you as soon as we were alone," I teased before his hand squeezed my dick uncomfortably tight.

"Want to do this yourself, jackass?" he growled in annoyance.

"Ah, no. Please continue," I replied with a smile.

_Small hands clumsily holding on, crucifix stroking skin._

Still grumbling, Mikael rolled onto his stomach and went under the covers. Groaning, I felt him stroke my hot flesh as he tugged my underwear down. As soon as the material was at my knees, his mouth attacked my throbbing member. Letting my eyes squeeze shut, I focused on that overpowering feeling. One cold hand teased my balls while the other one worked flawlessly with his mouth to drive me crazy. My thighs trembled as I drew my knees up and curled my toes in pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck yes," I groaned, clenching the sheets with my bony fingers.

The blanket slipped a little, revealing an orgasm-worthy sight. Mika's pink mouth was stretched out over my swollen organ and his hand was twisting at the base. Blond hair tickled the skin around my sex and his eyes rolled up to lock with my own. Pulling away slowly and with a soft "pop", he continued to watch my flushed face as he ran his tongue up the side of my very eager dick.

Not thinking that I could last much longer, I decided to move things along. In a swift motion, I was leaning over my beautiful lover, kissing him into next Wednesday. I took only a moment to moisten my fingers before pressing them into him gently. As usual, he tensed and squirmed uncomfortably, but I continued the gentle ministrations with both my fingers and my mouth. His tongue stroked the roof of my mouth making me tremble with pleasure.

How could someone so perfect exist?

For us, lovemaking was frequent and varied. Some nights were full of kinky tough love and other nights were slow and teasing. Tonight, it would be somewhere in between. Gasping for breath, I dragged my tongue down his throat and marked him with purple love bites. His steel arms clenched me tightly as I pressed my erection against the tender entrance, slowly easing in.

I could see his lips moving, panting and crying out for more. My mouth moved over his milky flesh, tongue capturing the dusky nipple and teasing it mercilessly. Ankles dug painfully into my back, but that was inconsequential. The plastic frames of my glasses helplessly slid down my nose and the lenses began to fog up. I didn't want to take the time to toss them off and I wanted to see him, but those damn things sliding down were going to eventually piss me off. Mikael said something about getting contacts. He threw them off a minute later.

Huffing, I continued to push into his tight hot body. My arms were braced on both sides of his head and my stomach quivered. His hips raised to meet my thrusts and his golden voice cried out sweet incense for our lovemaking. Sweat rolled down our skin, each breath raising goose bumps. Our voices drowned out the sounds of skin slapping skin and the feeling of his body clenching around mine overpowered almost all other senses. There was just him and me.

At some point, our fingers intertwined.

The closer to climax I got, the more my emotions began to brew. Not only pleasure and love, but there was always that regret and sadness. Why? Ever since I first slept with him, those feelings had bubbled up inside. It was like I had done something wrong, and each time I held him I was asking for forgiveness. Squeezing his hand tightly, I tried to push those feelings away just to feel the pleasure and the happiness. He was still here.

All too soon, blissful release swept us away.

"I love you," I panted, holding Mikael close. There were tears in my eyes and the horrible sinking feeling in my stomach threatened to unleash a flood of emotions. I felt like I would never see him again, that I would lose him.

"I love you too, Miles," he whispered, clinging to me tightly as well.

It was always like this after making love. The terrifying feeling that once the whiteness of climax was over, he would be gone. However, every time, he just held on. Mikael would never let go.

~_~_~_~_~_

Smoke lazily drifted to the cracked ceiling. Red glowed with each inhalation, and more smoke with each sigh. The nicotine successfully soothed my nerves, making me feel like a human shaped mound of gelatin. It was nice. Lazily looking over at my lover, I choked on the smoke as I saw him reading my notebook.

"Mika! Stop!" I whined as I tried to snatch the unimposing thing away from him.

Naturally, he just held it out of my reach and pressed his foot against my stomach to keep me back. "What? You never let me read your lyrics willingly, so don't bitch when I read them without your permission."

"But they're not good!" I protested. Shit, I was freakin' embarrassed. My writing was at best pathetic and for an accomplished novelist to read them was humiliating. Ugh, I was going to need another cigarette.

"You did so much for me

Like stabbing me to the core

So rather than leave you untouched,

I'd have you breaking some more."

Dear Buddha, he was reading it out loud. Shoot me now.

"I'll have you begging for less or for more

You will be bleeding, the black blood of hell

My angel of madness, my unholy whore."

Raising an eyebrow he spared my tomato-red face a glance before skipping down to read a few more lines.

"Can you taste the coppery blood, your vermouth**(2)**

I will break fairness and power and our youth

I am a liar, and that is the truth

Feel my tender love, my obsession

So loathe me, resent me, and hate me

Well, that look's almost worthy."

"Please stop," I begged, feeling like crawling away into some hole.

"You're why I took part in this war,

The reason I fought, how I tore

My hands are all covered in gore.

It hurts when you break from it all

And shadows alone aren't cold

So please, love, just do as you're told."

He looked up right into my eyes as he quoted the final part.

"You're proud, so it will take some time

But I'll have you say that you're mine

And beaten and bloodstained, you'll shine

Like the stars that tore through my pain

There might come a day when you die

But don't fear; if so, so will I."

"Ok, I think that you've humiliated me enough," I whispered, looking down at the ashtray. "I'm…not even done. Gotta revise, you know."

"Who were you thinking about when you wrote this?" he asked softly making me blush even more.

"W-well, it's not literal, you know. It's kind of, like, figurative, and in a good way! I mean, I know it sounds bad and all, but I don't think badly of you at all, on the contrary! I-"

His chuckle cut me off. Sparkling blue-green eyes watched me blush even more than I ever thought humanly possible. "Don't be so unsure of yourself," he replied softly. "It's unbecoming."

Setting the notebook on the night table, he scooted closer to my side. Warm arms wrapped around my body and those soft lips pressed careful kisses to my ribs.

"Are you going to come to our practice tomorrow?" I whispered, trying not to ruin the moment.

"Do you want me to?"

There was no need to think that over. "Yes."

"Ok. Just don't suck too bad."

"I love you too."

_~Fin~_

**Author's Notes: Afonasei is a Russian last name meaning "immortal". And Miles's glass are "retro-emo" because by this time, emos are a thing of the past. (1) That's from the DN novel if you didn't recognize it. XD (2)Pronounced ver-muthe; defines any of several white wines with aromatic herbs. As for the MU thing, it seems to be kind of a complicated concept, so if you are interested, google "MU nothingness" and some neat stuff should show up. -headdesk- Stupid fanfic won't let me format this page how I want to, so the part were Mikael is reading the lyrics is jacked up. Sorry about that.  
**

**The lyrics for Miles's song belong to MidnightInDecember. She wrote a very nice poem and was kind enough to let me use it in this chapter. I did make some changes so that it would fit in here. **

**So, this is the ending to Breaking Point. Sorry for this taking so long, but it went through MANY revisions (I lost count). I worked really hard to keep this in the mood of the rest of the story while still delivering the happy ending that you guys were asking for. Kiogy mentioned that he wanted their love to be new and refreshed and that gave me the idea of incorporating MU (from the ending of Death Note) and reincarnation. To me, it would have been impossible for them to have been truly happy after in their current life. Even if all was forgiven, they would never forget and things like that always tear apart relationships.**

**Well, I hope that you all enjoyed this series and this ending. Please let me know what you thought, and thank you all for taking time to read this. Much love to you guys!**


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